


The Monsters At The End Of This Book

by iamtheoneinthehole



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: book character!au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-09-05
Packaged: 2018-01-15 21:39:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 52,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1320127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamtheoneinthehole/pseuds/iamtheoneinthehole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hi I’m Gavin Free and this is gonna sound bloody weird but… you’re my favorite characters, book characters I mean, though I suppose you wouldn’t know about that but anyway look… I know how your story ends… And I want to change it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Rough Draft In Need Of Tweaking

**Author's Note:**

> This is part one of an idea that was inspired by a post by shirtless lion which I’ve seen floating around tumblr. I just couldn’t help but picture ahot6 when I saw it and after that the idea began to rapidly spiral out of control… Enjoy!

Gavin Free was not okay.

He’d just finished reading what was probably his favorite book series of all time, a tale about this man called King Geoff and his four most loyal Knights; Jack of House Pattillo, Ryan of Haywood, Ray of Narvaez and Michael (or Mogar), a self-made knight who’d fought his way up from the lower classes purely based on his own incredible skill. Together they’d made an unstoppable force, going on daring quests and protecting their kingdom, often with the help of Lady Lindsay (who would glare a person down if they ever used the ‘Lady’ part of her title to her face), Caleb of Denecour and Kerry, another lowborn but one with an excellent understanding of weaponry which’d, ultimately, made him an invaluable ally to the heroes.

They’d been known throughout the kingdom as the ‘Achievement Hunters’ because of a motto Geoff’s lineage upheld that the greatest achievement a King or Queen could have was a safe and prosperous kingdom. Geoff had told his knights, when they’d first been assembled, that their duty had been to hunt down ways to achieve this kingdom and that those who vowed to serve him in this manner would forever be known by that title to remind them of the duty they had sworn to uphold.

The final book had come out yesterday and, after a long day at work dealing with strangely pretentious directors who’d required his slow mo skills, he’d quickly settled down with the book and a bev, not setting it down until the early hours of the morning after he’d turned the final page…

Gavin Free was not okay.

That final book had focused on the quest the knights had been building up to throughout the series as they’d face off against the tribes of the undead, the skeleton archers, the slime, the creepers (those monsters in particular had fascinated Gavin as he’d read about them, the thought of having a creature in that world that was so destructive kind of putting things like spiders or snakes in perspective a little) before finally, in the book before last, encountering the Ender who had apparently pulled the strings behind all of those previous armies that had laid siege to Geoff’s kingdom.

The war against the Ender had been the first that the Achievement Hunters had failed to win, both Lindsay and Kerry being wounded in the fight and Caleb… he could remember crying after he’d finished that one but Caleb had gone out like a hero and the Achievement Hunters had vowed to avenge him and Gavin had believed they could when he’d picked up that final book…

Gavin Free was not okay.

He’d sat, readily with avid fascination as the hunters had waved goodbye to Achievement City, leaving a still wounded Lindsay and Kerry to take care of the kingdom as they’d traveled into realms unfamiliar to them, heading towards the rumored Ender tribe’s base referred to simply as ‘The End’ (and Gavin could certainly appreciate the bloody top symbolism there)… It was then that things had started to go downhill.

Ray was first. The red rose that he couldn’t quite resist picking and putting in his lapel had pricked him through his chain mail while he’d been fighting one of the Ender and moments later he’d collapsed to the ground. Gavin hadn’t panicked at that point though because Geoff had been poisoned once in the books and the knights had managed to put together a cure for their King and then go out and kill the thing that’d tried to kill him. He’d been expecting Ryan to whip out some potion that would heal Ray and then for the rest of the party to mercilessly tease the man for a bit before they carried on with their quest…

Ryan hadn’t had any potions that worked.

Jack had been next. He’d been building the remaining knights and their king a small fort to camp out in against the harsh elements of their environment as they moved closer and closer to The End… then one of the walls had unexpectedly caved in as one of the Ender removed a piece of wall that’d been balancing the structure. Gavin hadn’t wanted to believe that the man wasn’t okay. He’d waited a moment before turning over the page, trying to convince himself that Jack would be complaining about the damned Ender and telling the others to hurry up as they dug him out.

Jack never spoke another word.

After that Ryan had run into Edgar, an old enemy and fellow sorcerer who, at one point, had managed to capture Ryan’s mind and use it and him to serve his bidding. It’d been a tense few chapters as a ‘mad Ryan’ had sabotaged his companions attempts to thwart Edgar, even going so far as to almost kill Michael… but then the knight had managed to break out of Edgar’s influence and they’d apprehended the sorcerer, confining him to a pit which was able to contain his magic… Apparently the Ender had set him free and, after a brutal duel Edgar had taken hold of Ryan’s mind once more. Gavin had expected the sorcerer to turn Ryan on his fellow hunters like last time… Edgar had turned Ryan upon himself.

This time Michael hadn’t been able to stop him.

Eventually Geoff and Michael had made it to The End and had come face to face with the Ender dragon itself; a beast whose fire, the legends claimed, had forged Mogar’s sword and whose talons, those same legends claimed, had given the sword its sharp bite. The battle had been long and brutal and Michael had been landing hit after hit as Geoff fended off the Ender guarding it and for a moment it’d looked like the pair would come out on top… But then Michael had been caught by one of the Ender dragon’s claws and the warrior had grown pale, arms shaking a little with the effort to hold onto his sword as he’d forced his remaining strength into landing a final, killing blow through the Ender dragon’s chest.

The warrior who’d slain it had collapsed seconds later at its side.

King Geoff had returned alone, with the egg the dragon had left behind, to Achievement City and had mounted it upon the pedestal Jack had fashioned for it before the Achievement Hunters had embarked upon their quest. After that he’d returned to the throne room and had told Kerry and Lindsay what had transpired before handing over his crown claiming he felt he did not deserve it anymore because he had failed in the primary duty of his reign when it came to those who had mattered the most. The man had then left to live a life in solitude as Lindsay inherited his crown and both of them the Achievement Hunter legacy. Even he, according to legend, had met his fate at the hands of the Ender in the end.

The former king had welcomed death like an old friend.

And Gavin Free was not okay with that. With any of that. For six years these warriors, these heroes, had been his favorite characters, had helped him through tough times and putting a smile on his face every time he’d settled down to read about the Achievement Hunters and their many adventures. Now Gavin wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to smile at those adventures the way he once had again.

Because now the majority of the Achievement Hunters were gone, his favorite fictional characters of all time were dead and there was no happy ending that they’d all so deeply deserved after their great service to Achievement City.

Jack had spoken about wanting to settle down one day, Ray had wanted a garden, Ryan a few pets, Michael had often spoken about training up the next generation of Achievement Hunters… Geoff had just wanted his knights to be happy and to play a part in their adventures even after their noble quests had come to an end. And Gavin had believed in those adventures until they’d been brutally ripped from him by the author, a guy called Michael Burns (though his fanbase usually referred to his as ‘Burnie’) who Gavin had genuinely believed had wanted that ending for them too until he’d read his final book.

And now his favorite characters were dead, his hopes and dreams for them tarnished, and Gavin Free was not okay.

And so he’d written Burnie a letter about it;

_Dear Burnie,_

_Firstly I wanted to write to thank you. Your series ‘Achievement Hunters’ has helped me through some incredibly difficult times. I won’t go into those here but I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be the man I am today if I’d never picked that first book out at a book shop on a whim. Geoff, Jack, Ryan, Michael and Ray as well as all of the other incredible characters you crafted really have changed the way I look at the word, the things I dare to attempt, the ambitions I dare to aspire to and the dreams I dare to have. In short, your books have taught me to be brave and that is something I’ll never be able to thank you enough for._

_Secondly, I just wanted to let you know that the last book wasn’t exactly what I’d expected it to be when I was anticipating its release. That’s not to say it wasn’t a good ending and I bet a lot of people were surprised by it but… I guess after all those heroic adventures I wanted a happier ending for at least some of them. It’s not my position to question your choices though, especially when these are characters you so lovingly crafted yourself so you have every right to do with them whatever you like… Plus I’m glad Lindsay got to be Queen in the end. I bet she’ll be tippity toppers at it! It's just, I guess I wish the others could have lived to have seen it._

_I guess I’ll just wrap this up now with another thank you for writing this series and a hope that you’ll write more in the future._

_Your biggest fan,_

_Gavin Free._

He hadn’t ever expected a response. He’d simply wanted to thank the author for the series, vent a little about that final chronicle of his work, and then move on as much as he could with this gaping hole that those characters he’d loved so much seemed to have left in his chest.

So, needless to say, he’d been shocked when he’d gotten a letter back from the author himself along with a mysterious package of some kind. The letter wasn’t long, simply reading;

_Dear Gavin,_

_I’m sorry the ending of this story disappointed you, especially after it helped you through so much… so here’s a chance to rewrite it. See if you can sway the characters from the path that has been laid out for them, change their ending. I wish you luck on your travels._

_Burnie._

He’d blinked a little, confused by what exactly Burnie had meant when he’d written this note, before he’d managed to snap out of it, turning to the package it’d come with and opening it in the hopes that it would somehow make sense of the note he’d received.

Inside the package he’d found a pen and a stack of papers that, after a few seconds of scrutiny, he’d recognized to be the original manuscript of the final book in Burnie’s series.

For a moment he’d held the papers with a strange sort of reverence as a mixture of awe and disbelief had coursed through him. He’d flicked through the pages, seeing little notes from Burnie about needing to ‘fix rambly sentences’ or ‘holy fuck Burnie this sounds pretentious as hell. Come back and do this part over’ and he’d found himself grinning like an idiot, laughing even, as he’d studied the man’s untidy scrawl down the corners of the pages…

Then the hunters had set out on their quest and something in Gavin’s gut had clenched, even with the comic relief of Burnie’s notes as a buffer for it, when he remembered exactly how that quest came to an end. And, before he’d even fully realized what he was doing, he found himself scribbling his own little note in the margin, next to Ray’s comment about the Ender people never seeing them coming until it was too late, that the Ender people would see them coming and worse still they were counting on it and how could they not see they were walking into a bloody trap?

Then suddenly he’d felt funny, as if the room were spinning and shaking around him, colors blurring and whirring to the point he had to shut his eyes in order to fight back the sudden motion sickness that seemed to be threatening to overtake him. Then suddenly the whirring was gone… but so was the chair he’d been sat in and he could feel a light breeze across his cheeks that definitely hadn’t been there before and…

He’d opened his eyes, blinking a couple of times to adjust to the sudden burst of light and taking a moment to realize exactly where he was as he took in the men in front of him that seemed just as confused as he was by his sudden presence there… Then one of the men had stepped forward, the words that then fell from his lips making the Brit’s eyes widen a little in awe as exactly who these men were finally seemed to click into place.

"My name is King Geoff of Achievement City and these are the Achievement Hunters… who are you and what do you know about this trap the Ender people have planned for us?"


	2. The First Page of A New Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin comes face to face with characters he’s idolized across the years and tries to explain to them exactly what it is that’s brought him here... perhaps with slightly different results than the ones he'd been expecting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say a huge thank you for the support this story's gotten so far- I'm completely overwhelmed by the response its been receiving and just wanted to let anyone who's reading this know how grateful I am for that- thanks again and enjoy!

A part of Gavin was faintly aware of the fact that he’d been staring at the man in front of him, eyes wide and mouth in an open gape, for at least the last five minutes... in utter silence. The thought was there, registering somewhere within the depths of his mind, but for whatever reason the logical response to that thought (that maybe he should break that silence by actually saying something) didn’t quite seem to register in the Brit’s mind.

Gavin didn’t think he could exactly be blamed for that though because somehow, impossibly, there in front of him (almost within touching distance) was King Geoff of Achievement City and his five most noble and brave knights… the _fictional_ King Geoff of Achievement City and his equally _fictional_ knights.

He would know, after all, being the series’ number one fan. He’d read each of the books (excluding the last one, for obvious reasons) over seventeen times. He’d attended cons, talked to other fans on the forums, had even cosplayed as Mogar one year (though he could see now that his attempts at capturing the vibrant red of Michael’s hair had fallen pretty damn short really and don’t even get him started on how off the armor had been...). And despite the fact that he’d often find himself wishing that these incredible, brave, loveable characters and their far off kingdom of Achievement City were real (…maybe without the skeleton armies and the creepers though), despite desperately wishing for it as he’d grown up with the books, despite the amount of times he’d simply tried to will the characters into existence, they’d stubbornly remained _fictional_ and Gavin had come to terms with that...

And yet here they were stood in front of him; living, breathing and very much not the fictional characters he’d come to accept they were... He was pretty sure anyone in his position really would be at least a little thrown by that.

And it wasn’t just the Achievement Hunters that seemed to be real. The breeze he’d felt before had blown through the very real looking trees on the outskirts of Achievement City. It’d been night when he’d been reading the manuscript Burnie had sent him and yet he could feel the very real sun glaring down on him from above. And out of the corner of his eye, his was pretty sure he could see the skyscraper of a tower Geoff and his ancestors had built in the dreams of one day being able to touch the very edge of the world of Achievement City, and to see what lay beyond it.

The Ramsey bloodline had, after all, always been known for its curiosity when it came to the unknown. That was why Geoff had become such a great King and leader of the hunters, because he’d always been willing to head the expeditions and lead the quests himself that would ultimately be used to better his kingdom. It was because of the man’s curiosity and his bravery, after all, that Achievement City had been considered one of the safest places in all of the known realms… well at least until the Ender had come for them.

And that reminder of Achievement City’s greatest enemies quickly grounded Gavin as he managed to shake himself from the awe-induced sort of trance he seemed to have entered, finally taking in the expressions of the men stood in front of him that now ranged from confused, to suspicious, to concerned and… oh he still hadn’t said anything had he?

"I’m Gavin, Gavin Free."

"Of the freelands?" A man who must have been Jack of House Pattillo cut in (based on the design of his armor and the beard that was every bit as majestic as Gavin had always pictured it). The man was, of course, referring to the large, almost cavernous, valleys between neighboring kingdoms which no King or Queen had ever seen fit to invade due to the harsh and hostile conditions of its environment. Because of that, the lands and the people who lived within them were considered ‘free’ and the people who lived their mostly kept to themselves and stayed out of the affairs of the surrounding kingdoms.

"I guess that’s one way of putting it." He admitted after a few moments considering that, technically, he didn’t belong to any of the kingdoms within the realms Burnie had penned and he supposed that would equate him, somewhat, with the people of the freelands. A Free of the freelands… it did have a pretty top ring to it.

"What brings you to Achievement City?" And that knight must be Ray! He could tell by the way the man wore his armor, a little sleeker and shinier than the rest (something Burnie had often explained in the books as a method the man had employed to make his opponents underestimate him. Going into battle against a man with armor which appears to never have experienced a real battle did tend to make the people facing that man a little cocky after all... And when a warrior got cocky? Well… that was when they made mistakes) and with a rose stuck out of the chain mail the man wore, something which made Gavin’s gut clench unpleasantly when he’d noticed it, remembering all too well exactly how that particular knight’s story was meant to come to an end…

"Like I said before…” Or at least like he assumed he had given that he wasn’t really sure if he had actually said it out loud when he’d somehow been transported here... but King Geoff had seemed to be responding the comment he’d written when he’d first spoken so… he guessed he must have said something, “...I’m hear to warn you about the Ender. They are more prepared to fight you than you realize."

"You mentioned a trap before? Tell us more about that. Perhaps then we’ll be able to counter it." And that was undoubtedly Ryan. It the staff the man was carrying which identified him as the only fully fledged sorcerer hadn’t given him away, Gavin was pretty sure the piercing blue intensity of his gaze, the same gaze that Burnie had once spent almost an entire page of the third Achievement Hunter volume describing as Ryan had fallen under Edgar’s influence. And he’d been struck silent once again by that intensity for a moment before he’d finally been able to answer.

"Right well, as I said before I’m Gavin Free and this is gonna sound bloody weird I know but… you’re my favorite characters, book characters I mean… Though I suppose you wouldn’t know you were book characters… Unless all characters secretly know when they’re in books… Or maybe we’re in their books and we don’t know we’re characters... Anyway, that’s not important. What’s important is this… I know how your story ends… And it wasn’t the ending you deserved so, I want to change it."

“So either he’s working for the Ender or… he’s just fucking dumb.”

“I’m not Michael-”

“How the hell do you know my name?” The redheaded warrior’s eyes sparked with a familiar rage Gavin had seen described countless times as the man in front of him had charged into battle and, despite the rush of excited glee he felt at actually being able to witness that expression first hand, his survival instincts it seemed were still intact enough for him to take a few cautious steps away from the man.

“Relax Jones everyone in the known realms knows your damn name, or have you forgotten you’re ‘the stuff of legends’.” The King had rolled his eyes, surprising Gavin a little when he’d then turned to shoot the Brit an apologetic look.

“He definitely hasn’t given the way he was bragging about it earlier.” Ray had cut in with an amused smirk.

“He claimed he was ‘inspiring the younger generations of Achievement Hunters’, pretty sure he was just showing off.” Ryan added, his expression matching Ray’s and Gavin knew his expression probably looked a little ridiculous as he tried to battle down the smile that threatened to break out across his features as he pictured Michael sitting with the children of the court and telling them stories of brave and mighty heroes, of daring quests and strange new lands. A world of excitement and adventure that’d taken Gavin’s world by storm when it’d been fictional… but for those stories to be real, and one of the heroes involved in them to be telling them? No wonder those children would’ve been inspired.

He gotten so caught up in his own mind again that he’d lost track of the conversation between the knights and their King, only managing to tune in again when Geoff had addressed him directly once more, “Gavin of the Freelands, we’re… honestly not quite sure what to make of your claims that we’re the subjects of books where you’re from. Maybe one day we’ll become fictional in a sense since myth and legend tend to bend the truth a little and maybe one day someone will sit down and pen our story... but in the meantime I have to say we’re all pretty damn real, or at least we were the last time I checked.”

And to hear those words from Geoff’s lips, whether this was some kind of dream, or hallucination, or something else that wasn’t quite reality… or not, sent a burst of something he was tempted to call euphoria bursting through him and he knew he was probably grinning like an idiot, especially based on the suspicious looks that Michael and Jack now seemed to be shooting his way. Ray, on the other hand, seemed to be grinning back and Ryan just seemed bemused more than anything as Geoff continued to speak.

“Of course us being real means that the dangers we face are also pretty damn real themselves. The Ender are a great and very real threat to Achievement City and any information you have about their plans would be invaluable to our quest.”

“But Geoff, how do we know we can trust the information he gives us?” Jack had pointed out, the look he was giving Gavin not quite as aggressive as ‘the stuff of legends’ stood at his side but still hostile enough to make something shift unpleasantly in his chest. He supposed in all the times he’d imagined meeting the Achievement Hunters and going on adventures with them, he’d never really allowed himself to consider the possibility that some of them might not necessarily trust him, or warm to him instantly. His fantasies had, after all, been largely idealistic as most fantasies were before you applied reality to them.

But then again he never could really have expected reality to apply to a fictional universe so he didn’t think he could really be judged too harshly for his fantasies of this world being ever so slightly unrealistic.

“We don’t, but wouldn’t you rather know that information anyway, just in case he’s right?” Jack had seemed ready to protest this for a moment, but the King’s gaze had been stern and the knight had, ultimately, acceded to his King’s wishes, allowing Gavin to speak.

“Well, they’re planning to kill you-”

“Because we’d never have fucking guessed that.” Michael had cut in only to be silenced a few seconds later by a razor sharp look from Geoff.

“And they’re planning to use the things you love or the abilities you have against you to do it-”

“Geoff are you sure its a good idea for Gavin to tell us the Ender’s plans?”

“Goddamit Ryan, really? Yes, I think it’s a good fucking idea-”

“But what if us knowing their plans means that they change them? Right now we have the advantage of having someone who, potentially, knows their every move. But if we know what those moves are, we’ll alter our route or be warrier around certain things that would give us away. Certainly Michael would give away our position given his complete inability to be subtle when he’s off the battlefield-”

“Fuck you too Rye-bread.” The sorcerer had paused briefly, rolling his eyes at the redhead as the warrior had, much to Gavin’s surprise, flipped the man the bird (that certainly hadn’t been in the books… then again neither had most of the cursing beyond the occasional ‘damn’ or ‘son of a bitch’. Gavin was starting to wonder if may Burnie had been forced to censor the hunters based on the wide age range that enjoyed his work. Perhaps he’d have to look through the manuscript later to see if he could find any ‘explicit versions’ of the chapters he’d read).

“And the Ender aren’t fools, they’ll know if we know what they’ve planned for us and they’ll change their plans accordingly… If this man truly knows how they plan to kill us, he’ll be able to stop them. If we know? Chances are, none of us will ever see them coming…”

“...You still think they’re working with another sorcerer don’t you?” Geoff had offered, after a moment, in a softer tone that Gavin wasn’t entirely sure he was meant to hear but overheard all the same as his curiosity got the better of him.

“It just makes sense Geoff. The way these Ender have been operating is far advanced from what they’re supposed to be capable of according to the lore on them… I still think they had some help with Caleb’s death and I know you’ve considered it too. We’re all well aware, after all, of exactly what sorcery can become capable of when it falls into the wrong hands…”

“Like with Edgar.” The words had blurted out of Gavin’s mouth before he’d been able to even think about stopping them, the group’s heads whipping around to face him, expressions ranging from shock to even more suspicion as Ryan had stepped a little closer, eyes burning with an even greater intensity than before as they seemed to scan for something, perhaps some kind of malicious intent...

“Yes, like with Edgar… I can’t help but wonder how someone from the freelands knew about that, especially when we never told anyone outside of the Achievement Hunters about it… what else do you know about us?” The sorcerer’s eyes, while intense, remained mostly kind but something about the man’s tone told Gavin this was an interrogation (and that thought couldn’t help but make him feel a little uneasy as he’d forced himself to hold the man’s gaze, refusing to show them any false signs of guilt).

“I know about Achievement City and the Achievement Hunters, I know about Lindsay who hates her title and Kerry whose knowledge of weapons is unparalleled in all of the known realms. I know Michael used to be afraid of creepers and that’s why he trained himself as a kid to know how to protect himself against one. I know Ray’s love of roses stems from the first courtship he’d ever had; the courtship ended badly, but the rose was a nice reminder of when things were good between them... And I know Ray has since forgotten that this was his reasoning. I know Jack’s love of building was inspired by the great tower of Achievement City and that originally he’d planned to be the builder to finally finish it and touch the edge of the world as no other had before him. I know Geoff actually considered his future as a King to be a bleak one before he’d begun to meet the knights that would one day become the very first Achievement Hunters. And I know you used to have a pet cow called Edgar as a kid and that was why the sorcerer also adopted the name of Edgar, to subconsciously trick you into trusting him a little more easily… I also know a lot of other things about you guys, in fact I probably know you better than most of the people from my own family.”

There’d been a beat of silence allowing Gavin, for a moment, to fully take in the expressions of shock written across the Knight’s faces before, “Do the Ender really know this much about us?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure… I know they know a lot but… probably not that much. And honestly I’m not working for them-”

“Which is exactly what someone working for the Ender would say.”

“Really Michael?”

“Well they would, I’m just pointing it out.”

“I’d never work with those creatures, not after they killed my-.” He’d cut himself off there, a part of him reminding the rest to hold its tongue as he remembered what Ryan had said before about him telling the knights the Ender’s plans. The last thing he wanted to do was trigger some kind of self--fulfilling prophecy by telling them the Ender had killed them only to have them die anyway because of it... Something in his expression, or his words, must’ve seemed genuine enough to the men in front of him though because, after that, the hostility that’d been heavy in the air seemed to clear a little.

“You lost someone too huh?” Jack had asked after a few moments of silence, save for the gentle rush of the breeze as it wove its way through the trees.

“Yeah… a few someones actually.”

“What were they like?” Was Ray’s soft question after that.

“The best… they were really just... top.”

“Top?”

“Yeah tippity toppers.”

“There’s no way those are real words.” Michael had scoffed as he’d eyed the Brit.

“They are too!”

“Are not!”

“Are too!”

“Are not!”

“Really Michael?”

“Sorry Geoff.”

“We’re sorry for your loss Gavin…” Geoff had started before Gavin waved him off with a half smile.

“You don’t need to apologize for that you pleb, its not your fault.” The King offered him something that wasn’t quite a smile, but was pretty close to one all the same, in response to that.

“All the same someone should and the Ender certainly fucking won’t. As you may or may not know, they killed one of ours too, a young man named Caleb of House Denecour… we originally set out on this quest to avenge his death… perhaps you should come with us, see if you can avenge the death of the people you lost too.”

“But Geoff-”

“Think about it, this way you’ll also be able to stop us from walking into those traps that the Ender have set us too. Honestly, your presence might turn out to be an invaluable addition to our numbers.”

“Geoff just think about this-”

“I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

“You wouldn’t be,” And with that he shot a sharp look at both Jack and Michael who quickly fell silent in a way that was comical enough that had Gavin been reading about it (instead of being there with the characters in that moment) he’d probably be in stitches right now. “Okay look, if it makes everyone feel better, we’ll take a vote. All in favor of Gavin of the freelands joining us on our quest.” Geoff, Ray and Ryan’s hands all rose in favour of him joining them, “All against.” Jack sighed, not even bothering to lift his hand, though Michael still stubbornly raised his as he glared daggers at Gavin (and never had he been more grateful for Burnie’s, perhaps overly, extensive use of metaphors than he had been when he’d realized a look from the man couldn’t actually kill him where he stood).

“If this asshole gets us all killed, I’m gonna haunt the fuck out of the rest of you just to say ‘I told you so’ .” And with that Michael had adjusted his pack, beginning to storm ahead the others letting out collective sighs as if this was a somewhat common occurrence before Jack had rushed after Michael, Ryan following shortly afterwards as Geoff had moved over to shake the Brit’s hand with his own hand ( _that felt bloody real! King Geoff of Achievement City was shaking his hand and it felt bloody real!_ ), offering him a wry smile as he’d offered a, “Welcome to the Achievement Hunters,” before rushing off after the majority of his knights.

Ray had lagged behind a little to walk alongside the Brit, offering a ‘they’ll come around you know’ (which Gavin was secretly very grateful for) and a spare bag of supplies he’d been carrying (according to Ray, he hadn’t been entirely sure why he’d packed it, he’d just had a feeling he’d need it… which was definitely something Gavin couldn’t remember reading in the original book) before he’d rushed off after Geoff, telling Gavin he’d get the rest of them to wait for a few moments if Gavin wanted to put those pages of his inside the bag he’d just been given... Which naturally reminded Gavin about the almost forgotten pages that he’d apparently been holding all this time.

He stared down at the paper for a moment, eyes drawn to where he’d made his first comment right next to Ray’s dialogue at the end of the first chapter, flicking over the page to the beginning of chapter 2 and, again without really thinking about it too much, making another little untidy scrawl in the margin there before putting away the book and pen and rushing to catch up with the rest of the group.

The note had read; _Introduce a new character here. His name is Gavin and he is mistaken for a man of the freelands when really he comes from another world to this one in the hopes of changing the Achievement Hunter’s fate… hopefully he’ll end up sounding less like a Gary Stu when you actually get around to rewriting this part._


	3. The Importance of Character Development

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's a good story without fleshed out characters? In this installment, the Achievement Hunters get to know their story's newest character, Gavin, a little better. Meanwhile, Gavin discovers a few new things about himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I cannot thank you all enough for the incredible, wonderful support you've been showing for this story- thank you so much and enjoy!

Gavin Free could honestly say that he’d felt a little giddy as they’d begun to wander through the great arching trees that bordered the grassy area he’d suddenly found himself in moments ago, eyes darting about in rapid, almost frenzied, motions as he tried to take in as much of the world around him as possible, not wanting to miss a single detail. He could see the faint outline of mage’s hut in the distance (where the people of Achievement City went for their medical needs) and the smaller houses were some of Geoff’s lower councillors lived were just about visible to the far right of the group. He could also just about make out the giant tree that the Achievement Hunters usually adorned for Christmas and in the distance he could just about make out the podium where the Achievement Hunters had once been challenged to a fight to the death against a rival kingdom. And he could feel himself practically buzzing with excitement as he’d spotted the cage in which the hunters had once managed to trap one of each of their enemies, confining them away from the rest of the kingdom as they’d interrogated them about their intentions towards their kingdom.

And a part of him knew he was probably doing a pretty convincing impression of an excited puppy right now, and the fact that he was may well be wearing on some of the hunter’s nerves, but he couldn’t really find it within himself to care, especially when his hyperactive enthusiasm seemed to be amusing Geoff so much (or at least seemed to be, based on the grin that’d come to the King’s lips as he watched him).

“I take it you haven’t been out of the freelands much before then?” He’d eventually offered to the Brit when he’d finally managed to tear himself away from staring at where a patch of roses had sprung up by one of the trees; roses which he couldn’t help but note were far more ornate than the ones he was used to in his own world. There was an extra sense of fragility to the blooms but also an extra, almost surreal, sort beauty to them that Gavin supposed might stem from the magic that seemed to underpin all of the elements within this world to the point that it became almost tangible within the air he breathed. He found himself wondering if all roses in Achievement City looked like this… if so, perhaps Gavin could understand the obsession Ray seemed to have with these flowers.

Because of his musings, it’d taken a few moments for Gavin to fully register the King’s question, but Geoff had seemed to mind, simply waiting patiently for his answer, his expression surprising Gavin with the genuine interest it displayed, “Yeah, this is the first time I’ve ever gotten the chance to leave them to be honest… its a little complicated to travel between there and here.” The King nodded at those words, though Gavin doubted he realized just how complicated that journey had been given that the man hadn’t seemed to believe him before when he claimed he’d come from another world to help them… then again, he was pretty sure he’d have had a bloody hard time believing that if their situations had been reversed so he couldn’t exactly blame Geoff for that.

“I can believe that. Those slopes look pretty treacherous, certainly not something you’d venture up or down on a whim. It was incredibly brave of you to even attempt it-”

“Thanks.”

“Or incredibly stupid.” The king seemed amused by the pout Gavin had offered at that, chuckling a little as he’d slung an arm casually over the Brit’s shoulder (and said Brit had been forced to do everything in his power not to let out the excited squeak that threatened to escape his lips in response), “Here’s the thing though, and I’ll let you in on this secret since you’ll probably realize this sooner or later while travelling with us… all of the Achievement hunters are, well at least a little anyway, because it does take a certain brand of stupidity in order to be brave.”

Gavin couldn’t help but smile a little at that, glad to see that Geoff’s perhaps a little unconventional, but no less inspiring, way with words was something that carried off the page into this… well ‘reality’ he supposed. They fell into a companionable silence for a few moments as the group continued to march forward, Geoff’s arm still slung over his shoulder, a fact which neither man chose to comment, though he could see Michael’s suspicious glares and Ryan’s amused looks out of the corner of his gaze as he’d turned a little to take in more of their surroundings.

“Achievement City really is beautiful Geoff.” The king had smiled at that, nodding as he followed Gavin’s eyeline back to where the Ramsey tower was still just about visible in the distance, its highest levels beginning to be submerged by some white, fluffy clouds as they rolled in across the skies of Achievement City.

“Yeah it’s not bad huh… I mean, I know we’re not the most impressive kingdom out there. I’m sure you’ve heard stories in the freelands about the ‘greatness’ other known realms but… I like to think Achievement City has its own subtle charm to it. Because it may not possess the greatest architecture, excluding Ramsey tower of course, nor the vastest landscapes but… Its safe, safer than any other place in the known realms, and even the Ender’s growing presence here hasn’t changed that. And I think that holds its own sort of beauty.”

The brit had listened attentively as Geoff had mused over Achievement City, mind distantly recalling the lengthy passages he’d read describing this kingdom in Burnie’s narrative. He remembered how the language had felt when he’d read it, an awed sort of reverence pouring off every page to the point where the love and appreciation of that land was unmistakable. And Gavin had always had a sneaking suspicion, even before this point, that it was Geoff’s eyes that they’d seen that land through.

After all, the man was arguably the centerpiece of the series considering he was both the King and the man who’d founded the Achievement Hunters in the first place. Plus there was the fact that he’d been the last survivor when the Ender had… He quickly shook off that train of thought, not wanting his mind to wander down that morbid path, especially when he and Geoff seemed to be bonding a little.

The point he’d been making before was he’d always suspected that the reverence and love that’d always resonated from Burnie’s descriptions of Achievement City had come from the emotional perspective of Geoff, now he was almost certain of it. The man obviously adored his kingdom and Gavin was almost entirely certain that was what’d made him such a great ruler towards his people. Because he cared. About his kingdom, about his people, about his hunters. Geoff cared more so than any other character in the entire series (and considering the wide range of emotional scope Gavin had observed in each of the hunters when he’d read and reread the series, that wasn’t exactly a small feat).

Well, Gavin supposed, any other character in the entire series save him now.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a light tap on the shoulder that Geoff’s arm was still resting on, ducking his head, a little embarrassedly, when he realized the man had asked a question and had been waiting for some kind of response from him. “Sorry, what?”

“You freelands people really don’t have the best attention spans do you? I was just wondering what your home was like in comparison to ours. No one ever really gets to see your lands up close so… I’m admittedly curious as dicks to know what it’s like down there.”

Gavin paused for a moment, running the possible descriptions he could give through in his head a few times as he tried to come up with an explanation that Geoff would be able to fully understand, “There’s a lot less trees where I’m from. Wolves too and we definitely don’t have anything that looks as bloody top as Ramsey tower.”

“You don’t have wolves?”

“We do, just not so much in the village I’m from.”

“What about spiders?”

“We have those, just… smaller.”

“Smaller?”

“Yeah about… this big.” He made a gesture with his hands to give Geoff a rough approximation of what he meant, unable to keep him from breaking out into laughter a few moments later at the hilariously bewildered look on the king’s face as he clearly attempted to process this.

“So tiny spiders and hardly any wolves?”

“We also don’t have skeleton archers… or creepers.” Geoff stared at him for a long moment, obviously trying to assess whether or not he was telling the truth about that, meanwhile Gavin desperately tried to keep in the laughter that threatened to, once again, escape his lips as the other Achievement Hunters turned to look at them with expressions ranging from confusion (Jack and Michael) to a faint sort of amusement (Ryan and Ray, the latter of those two especially). He hadn’t lasted long though and a few moments later Geoff was lightly elbowing him in the ribs, a look of disbelieving amusement on his face as he claimed there was ‘no goddamn way’ the people of the freelands were that fucking lucky.

And Gavin had been too busy grinning like the idiot that, according to Geoff’s logic he probably was, and basking in the elated sort of disbelief that Geoff actually seemed to like him, to correct the man.

For the rest of the journey that day they’d ended up talking more about the tiny spiders and how, because of their size, they were considered far less of a threat in the freelands than they were in Achievement City, something that’d especially fascinated Geoff since that removed the dangers posed by spider jockeys from those particular lands. He’d also talked with Gavin about the kinds of house the people of the freelands built since he’d always been curious as to how ‘Gavin’s people’ survived such harsh conditions in the freelands.

It’d taken a little ‘artistic license’, and a lot of improvisation, but eventually Gavin reckoned he’d given the king a rough estimation of what housing where he was from was like. The man had especially been inthralled by the, ironically named, flats that the brit spoke of, that were built upwards, not unlike Ramsey tower, so as to allow for more living space for the people of the freelands. The king had even begun to talk, animatedly, about how he and Jack had been discussing doing something similar to the inside of Ramsey tower, turning it into a living space for the Achievement Hunters, as well as Geoff’s larger council, instead of it just existing as a monumentally sized throne room and a reminder to the king to uphold the vows he’d made.

They’d been so caught up in their discussion that it’d taken a while before Geoff finally noted that the night was beginning to draw in, and quickly. Once he’d realized though, he was quick to lead the group over to an area of land that was partly shielded from the elements, as well as any possible attacks from the skeleton archers, giving the orders for the men to set up camp there was he left Gavin to his own devices, wandering over to Ryan to discuss with him the protective charms they’d need cast over their settlement that night.

Because, despite the Achievement Hunter’s efforts to subdue their numbers, the skeleton archers did still linger around certain parts of the borders between Achievement City and its neighboring kingdom of Roosterteeth; a kingdom whose royal family held an alliance with the Ramsey bloodline for years now. Said alliance had, initially, been formed as a result of a promise made between Geoff’s parents and the ruler of Roosterteeth, Matt of House Hullum to wed the future King Geoff of Achievement City to Princess Griffon of Roosterteeth. Perhaps they should’ve realized it was an ill-fated match from the start but… the children had seemed to get along so well upon their first meeting.

Of course neither of the families had allowed for the possibility of other suitors, nor accounted for their own children’s stubbornness when it came to not going through with the match, though their reluctance hadn’t been a case of them disliking each other. On the contrary, Geoff and Griffon had been fast and firm friends from the moment they’d met… it was just that the love which they bore one another was familial and, by the time they’d known each other for a few months, they were already calling each other brother and sister. By the time the pair had finally reached an age where marriage became a possibility, both families had given up on the idea of a marriage alliance between the two kingdoms anyway.

But that familial love the two heirs, now monarchs, had shared had been more than enough to cement an alliance between the kingdoms, regardless, something the Achievement Hunters had relied upon and had been immeasurably grateful for numerous times over the course of their adventures given how Griffon would always be the first to send aid when Geoff had called for it.

It was her warriors that had aided the hunters in pushing back the skeleton archers and the creeper mobs and it was them that were doing the utmost to ensure the hunters safe passage across these lands now, doing their best to keep the recent surge in monster activity away from Geoff’s door while he dealt with the Ender.

In short, Griffon was an invaluable ally to King Geoff and Gavin knew the man planned to visit her kingdom tomorrow to inform her of the plans that’d been drawn to counter the Ender’s plans. He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d tell her about Gavin, about what Griffon might think of him if Geoff did. He couldn’t quite imagining her reacting like Michael had but… all the same, the woman didn’t trust so easily when it came to those who she cared about. After all, she’d all but refused Ryan access to her kingdom for several months after the incident with Edgar and, even now, she’d never fully regained her trust for the sorcerer. Perhaps then, she’d been more reserved with her distrust of him, like Jack had been.

And it wasn’t as if Gavin blamed her, or any of them really, for that fact. He just hoped, with time, he’d get the chance to prove to them all just how trustworthy he really was...

He’d eventually managed to shake himself from his strange sort of reverie, realizing that all of the other hunters had begun to set up their tents now, Ryan having finished with the enchantments that Gavin now noticed gave the air around them a slight sheen, as if he was looking through one of those clear glass doors you sometimes got in holiday homes, or the really fancy houses of some of the directors of the overly pretentious films he’d worked on… the same doors that Gavin had been known to accidentally walk into on more than one occasion since they were so clear, you could almost forget they were there unless you really focused on them… It was the same with Ryan’s magic and Gavin couldn’t help but idly wonder if he’d rebound of the protective charms, the way he had off those doors, if he tried to cross it.

A hand on his shoulder had alerted Gavin to the fact that he’d zoned out again (and perhaps Geoff was right about his bloody awful attention span because he definitely seemed to be doing a lot of that while he tried to adjust to the setting of this beautiful but surreal new world he was somehow getting the chance to inhabit). He’d quickly turned, ready to apologize for essentially being useless as the others had set up camp, so he’d been surprised when he’d, instead, been met with Ray’s sheepish expression, his eyes holding just the smallest hint of apology to them before the man spoke.

“I’m really sorry Gavin but when I packed that bag of extra supplies, I didn’t think we’d need another tent so-”

“It’s fine, I can sleep out here. The fire should keep me warm enough and I-”

“Don’t be dumb, you’re rooming with me.”

“Ray I couldn’t possibly-”

“Refuse my kind offer? Well, glad that’s settled then. Now get your stuff in the tent idiot.”

“Ray are you sure-”

“Wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t. Whatever Jack and Michael seem to think about you, you don’t strike me as a bad person. And hey, I was the only one who called it on the whole Edgar thing so I think its safe to say I’m probably the best judge of character around here… I mean, its not as if I trust you one hundred percent but… its pretty close to that. And if any of the others don’t like that? Well they can suck it.” The brit hadn’t been able to stop the smile from breaking out across his face at that, raising his hands in mock ‘defeat’ before he’d moved to dump his bag in the tent along with Ray’s.

While he was there, he’d taken a moment to pull out the pages Burnie had given him, his eyes briefly skimming over the start of chapter two and freezing a little in his tracks for a moment as he’d spotted his name in the original print and… he could see the dialogue from their first meeting now taking up a good chunk of the second chapter. He could even see the others reactions to him reflected on the page in front of him and… how was that even possible?

The note he’d written was still there though and the only thing he could really notice had changed about that was the little mark of (what Gavin guessed was) approval next to his comment. He’d stared for a few moments before flipping back over the page, his eyes once again catching on his own name as he read about his sudden arrival (which really was sudden and… was that Burnie’s handwriting in the margin saying something about having to fix that abruptness at some point in print? Surely it couldn’t be… could it?).

He’d forced himself to shake it off, flicking through the pages until he reached chapter three and jotting something down about developing his character, and beginning to cement a bond with both Geoff and Ray, before Ray had burst into the tent to ask him what was taking so long (since Geoff was cooking for them and Gavin had to try the king’s cooking because apparently it would ‘ruin him for all other food, forever’). He’d quickly slipped the pages back into his bag, following Ray out of the tent and setting himself a mental reminder to check on them again later.

As it had turned out, Ray hadn’t been exaggerating at all about Geoff’s cooking skills.

The pair of them had eventually stumbled back to Ray’s tent, full of the food that the bloody King of Achievement City had cooked for them, as well as a little of the bevs Geoff had been carrying with him, before collapsing on the blankets the hunter had the forethought to lay out for them earlier.

And they’d been laughing about something that Ryan had said earlier when the lad had suddenly turned to face him, a look of curiosity burning in his gaze as he asked, “Do all the people in the lowlands sound like that?”

“Like what?”

Ray’s brow furrowed a little, as he seemingly searched for the words that were evading him, before shrugging as he continued, “Different I guess. Your accent’s not like any I’ve heard in the known realms before… but then again, I guess the freelands probably don’t count as ‘known’ realms since none of us have ever been to them except you.”

The Brit had long since given up in the attempts to correct the other men in the assumptions by this point, instead focusing his dwindling energies on how to best answer the man’s question, “I guess some of them sound like me. But there’s also people who sound like you, or Michael.”

“Maybe they’re descended from people who were brave enough to venture down into the freelands from Achievement City.”

“Maybe. Or maybe it was some of your ancestors that dared to venture up.”

“Maybe… how about your clothes? Do people in the freelands usually dress like that?”

Gavin looked down at what he was wearing, for the first time realizing how out of place it looked against the backdrop of Achievement City and alongside the armoured men he was travelling with, before looking back to meet Ray’s gaze with an answer of, “Some of them do. We don’t really get to wear things as top as armour where I’m from.”

“You don’t?” Ray seemed mildly horrified by the prospect, something Gavin knew was likely to do with the amount of times the other man’s armour had saved or aided him in battle.

“Nope. It’s okay though, these clothes are pretty comfy.”

“But they won’t be much good against the Ender.” The man frowned for a moment, clearly having some sort of internal debate with himself, before he’d slipped off his chain mail, offering it up to Gavin, “Here.”

“No bloody way Ray. I’m not accepting that-”

“You’ll need it more than me.”

“Maybe. Still doesn’t mean I’m bloody taking it.”

“Are you always this fucking stubborn?”

“Yep.” Ray sighed, eventually admitting defeat as he’d moved to place his chain mail over his pack of his supplies before settling back down on the blankets.

“Maybe we can get Ryan to do some enchantments on your clothes then. Last thing we need is having two people to avenge because of those Ender assholes.”

Gavin hoped he wasn’t crossing some sort of boundary given that they’d only met that day, and Ray had already made a lot of allowances for him by allowing the Brit to share his tent, but the sight of that small flicker of pain that darted through the man’s gaze for a moment made something twist unpleasantly within his gut. Reading about Ray’s pain had been hard enough, the anger, the guilt, the pent up grief hidden behind his easy smile but… seeing that pain first hand had to be a thousand times worse because there was a rawness there that Gavin was pretty sure he couldn’t put into words even if he’d tried.

And so he’d found himself reaching out across the tent to place what was hopefully a reassuring (and not a slightly creepy and unwelcome) hand on the man’s shoulder, relieved moments later when he saw gratitude and not revulsion in the man’s gaze.

They’d been quick to change the subject after that, talking idly about everything and nothing until the man had finally drifted off to sleep, mid-sentence, in a way that Gavin couldn’t help but find strangely endearing as he’d settled down at his end of the tent, using his bag as a makeshift pillow as he’d murmured a soft ‘night’ into the silence, drifting off moments later with a huge smile on his face.

\----

It’d taken a good few minutes of drowsy and disoriented sleepiness before Gavin had actually managed to figure out where he was, narrowly managing to muffle the excited noise that escaped his lips when he realized he hadn’t dreamed it up, not any of it. Achievement City was real, King Geoff was real, the Achievement Hunters were bloody real… Or at least it all seemed that way. But every passing second he spent here was doing a lot to quieten the doubts about whether or not this was all in his head or not. Because he didn’t feel crazy and the world around him sure as hell felt pretty real as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, peeking out of the tent enough to note that Geoff was already gone, having headed off, with Jack as his ambassador to the kingdom of Roosterteeth, several hours ago.

In their absence, it seemed, the others were doing whatever they could to keep themselves entertained which ranged from Michael practising his sword work against an (unfortunate) nearby tree, to Ray who was sprawled out in the sun, eyes tracking the movements over the clouds overhead. It’d been Ryan that’d caught his eye though as the man weaved some obviously complex spell that had Gavin gawping a little at him.

He found himself entranced by the patterns of light that the man wove with his fingertips, faint murmured words getting lost on the breeze as Gavin tried to listen in with the hopes of perhaps being able to decipher which kind of spell the man was using. He quickly gave up on that endeavour though, instead focusing on the tendrils of Ryan’s magic as they dove and soared and spiralled around the man, only to then branch out to surround the camp. If Gavin had to take a guess based on what he was witnessing, he’d say the man was likely making efforts to strengthen the charms around their camp.

For a moment, Gavin couldn’t help but wonder if those charms had even been necessary though. After all, it wasn’t as if there’d been any disturbances in the night from a passing army or mob or even a lone archer… But then Gavin had turned his attention to the air behind his and Ray’s tent, suddenly noticing a cluster of arrows embedded into the air just inches from where he’d been sleeping before… And being as unaccustomed as he was to near death experiences like that, Gavin figured he was completely justified in the noise of alarm that’d escaped his lips moments later.

Thankfully, both Ray and Michael were too busy being occupied by other things to notice, though the sudden laughter he could hear from where Ryan had been doing his spellwork before told Gavin the sorcerer had definitely noticed. It wasn’t cruel laughter though, more amused and when Gavin turned to face the man he saw a glimmer in his eyes that was almost… fond.

“You weren’t kidding when you told Geoff there weren’t skeleton archers where you came from where you?” He offered after a moment, wandering over to join the Brit once he’d murmured a few more inaudible words under his breath, the tendrils Gavin had been so transfixed by before fading into the air as the man approached.

“No I wasn’t… I mean I’ve heard the stories about them but-”

“Seeing things like this first hand is a little different huh?”

“Just a little.” Ryan had laughed a little more at that and Gavin couldn’t help but note that Burnie really hadn’t done that sound the justice it deserved in his writing because the cadences of that sound possessed a magic of its own… he might leave that part out of his notes on the manuscript though because wow that sounded corny, even in his head.

“Well we probably won’t run into any once we leave the borders here. Griffon and her people have been doing a pretty good job of keeping the archers confined to this area so chances are you won’t have to come across one face to face for a while… creepers, however, are a little more unpredictable. I take it you weren’t kidding about your lack of experience with those either?”

“Nope.”

“Right… well I can’t promise we won’t run into those on this quest but… maybe I can help you learn something that’ll help you defend yourself against one if and when you do.”

“Do you mean...” Gavin trailed off, knowing the sorcerer would know what he meant and, honestly, a little too excited by the possibilities to worry about trivial things such as finishing sentences right now.

“Do I mean I’ll teach you a little of this?” The man queried, lips curling into an amused smile as he took in Gavin’s awed expression at the light shimmers of light that suddenly burst into existence around them. “That’s the plan yeah.”

“But don’t you have to have-”

“A certain ‘spark’? Yeah you do which is why, despite their numerous attempts to learn, you won’t see those two...” He gestured to the two other hunters who were now sparring apparently, Michael obviously winning, though he’d pull back a little each time he gained the upper hand, obviously wanting to prolong the fight between them, “...casting spells anytime soon. But you’re different in that respect and I’m pretty sure you do have some of the raw potential needed… how else would you have wound up here?”

It was then that it’d suddenly struck Gavin that the man in front of him had believed him when he’d claimed to be from another world, perhaps even believed him when he’d claimed that he, along with the other hunters, were fictional characters in said world. He supposed it was probably a result of the man’s greater understanding of this sort of phenomena. After all, he dealt in magic and, as far as Gavin was concerned, it was probably something a little magical that’d brought him here (not that he had any more idea than any of the others here exactly what kind of magic that was, or how it worked).

And then the other part of what Ryan caught up with him and suddenly he was staring at the man with a wide-eyed sort of childish glee, “You really think that I’ll be able to do… this?” He gestured wildly to the space around him, eyes once again catching on the glimmers of light the sorcerer had managed to will into being.

“I’m not entirely sure how deep that spark runs, its impossible to tell without a little training first but… there’s definitely something there. Potential… and I’ve never been particularly against teaching on of the others a few of my tricks, it just happens you’re the first potential student I’ve had that would actually be capable of them… So what do you say? Want to help me show Ray and ‘the stuff of legends’ over there how its really done?”

It’d taken all of a millisecond before Gavin had been eagerly nodding his acceptance of the man’s offer, only narrowly resisting the urge to actually start bouncing around like a hyperactive kid in his excitement as he listened attentively to Ryan’s instructions, his expression morphing to one of intense focus as the sorcerer attempted to teach him a few of the basic skills.

It’d been roughly an hour later that Michael had suddenly noticed the fact that the two of them were practising magic, a fact that’d probably been given away by Gavin’s alarmed squawk as the Ryan had used his powers to levitate the brit (apparently as an example of what he might one day become capable of if he really practised at his skills), or perhaps the faint shimmering in that now hung in the air around both of them as the older man chuckled and, gradually, returned the brit to his feet.

The redhead had been quick to storm over after that, asking (well more informing than asking if Gavin was being entirely honest about the situation) if he could have a word with the brit, in private, and then quickly dragging him away from Ryan as both he and Ray had looked on, bemused and, ever so slightly, concerned… then again, given the look in Michael’s gaze when he’d stormed over, he couldn’t exactly blame them for that. He’d looked ready to commit murder, which was something Gavin knew the warrior was more than capable of doing if he really wanted to… there was a reason this man was considered the ‘stuff of legends’ after all.

So naturally he was, understandably, nervous when they’d eventually reached a clearing not too far from the camp and Michael had turned to him with that intense sort of fire blazing in his eyes, almost like a furnace, and suddenly Gavin remembered that however that book had ended, this had been the man who’d managed to successfully slay the Ender Dragon, single handedly… And okay, Gavin really needed to stop having thoughts like this if he wanted to make it through this conversation without panicking or ending up with an awkward boner that he really wasn’t sure how he’d explain to the redhead, nor to the others waiting back at the camp, provided said boner wasn’t the thing that finally pushed Michael over the edge into actually slaying him.

They’d ended up standing there in a tense sort of silence for a few moments until the man had finally broken in, his tone sharp and with an obvious underlying threat to it as he spoke, “Alright you’ve had your fun convincing the others, even Jack’s start to warm up to you now, but I’m not buying this bullshit about you wanting to help us so what do you really fucking want?”

“I do want to help you-”

“Really? And why the fuck would someone from the freelands want to do that?”

“I’m not from the bloody freelands! And if you’d listened before you’d know-”

“What that you come from some ‘other world’ where we’re all make believe characters that you loved so much you willed us into existence?”

“I don’t know! Don’t you get that? I don’t bloody know how I got here and I don’t know why. All I do know is I cared about you when you were just characters on a page and now you’re all bloody real and… I don’t know whether I’ve gone mental or had some kind of breakdown but if you are… then I know I have to help you. And it’s not just what I want to do Michael… I need to do this. Because I can’t just sit back here and watch you bloody die!”

“...You know you sure do play that part of yours fucking convincingly, I’ll give you that.”

“That’s because its not a part. I do want to help you and there’s no catch, no evil plot, no nothing… I just want to help.”

“...Why?” The word had come out so softly that Gavin had barely caught it at first and suddenly he’d noticed something else shifting under the burning intensity of the man’s gaze, something quieter that the brit suddenly realized was insecurity… which was the last thing he’d ever expected from the man in front of him. And suddenly Gavin had realized that the question that was being asked wasn’t a ‘why would you help us?’ but a ‘why would you help me?’

“Because you’re not just the stories and the legends believe in, you’re real. You’re… impossibly, wonderfully real bloody heroes. Where I’m from, those stories give people hope, save them even but here… here you fight monsters day after day just to protect those around you and you never ask for any reward. You didn’t even ask Geoff to become a hunter, he was the one who had to talk you into it because all you’d ever cared about was helping people. There’s a reason you’re ‘the stuff of legends’ Michael, and its not just that you can fight really well with a sword… and between you and me, in the stories, you were always my favourite. A man who went from the lower settlements on the outskirts of Achievement City to being the greatest warrior in all the known realms and all because he wanted to protect people… what’s more bloody incredible than that? And if those aren’t good enough reasons for me to want to help you… well maybe I am just dumb like you said when we first met, because they’re good enough for me.”

There’d been a long silence as the man in front of him seemed to register those words and then suddenly the fire in his eyes had been gone, replaced with something that was a little disbelieving and a little… amused? “Wow that was fucking corny.” But tentative smile that’d accompanied the man’s words said he didn’t really mean it, or perhaps he did but all the same, the sight of an actual bloody smile on the man’s lips was far too much of a breakthrough for Gavin to really care about the man’s words anyway.

But that didn’t mean, of course, that he couldn’t pretend he did, “Oi, it wasn’t that bad!”

“It was fucking awful. It was like listening to one of those corny love letters people in courtships send each other.”

“Michael-”

“And it’s Michael, not Micoo, dumbass.”

“That’s what I said... Micoo.” He could see the exact moment that Michael’s smile turned into something a little more catlike, predatory, and suddenly Gavin had the very definite sense of being the redhead’s intended prey…and then suddenly the man had tackled him the ground, the chain mail digging into his side a little, to the point that it was almost painful, but then the brit had quickly been distracted from that and the man on top on him had gotten a grin that could only really be described as pure evil on his face (and suddenly Gavin was dangerously close to awkward boner territory again) and there’d been a tense beat of silence and then, “Ahh, Michael stop!” He’d just about managed to get out between breathy laughter as the man had begun to tickle him relentlessly, claiming he’d only let Gavin up once he said Michael’s name right.

And so naturally he’d been gasping and squirming under the man for a good few minutes before Michael had finally relented, letting the brit up, both of their cheeks lightly flushed from laughter as Michael had called him a ‘dumb idiot’... But there’d been no heat behind his words and, if he listened hard enough, Gavin was almost convinced he could hear a hint of fondness behind the other man’s words.

And just like that, the tension that’d been hanging in the air between them from the moment they’d first laid eyes on each other was gone, replaced with a strange sense of familiarity like they’d known each other for years instead of just over a day (though Gavin supposed he had known Michael for years, in a sense, it was the redhead who had to do the catching up now).

They’d ended up heading back to the camp with huge matching grins on their faces which had made both Ray and Ryan double take when they’d seen them in a way that’d had Gavin fighting down silent laughter as Michael had slung a companionable arm over the brit’s shoulders and he was pretty sure Ray’s jaw had actually dropped for a few seconds.

They’d all ended up talking over the lunch Geoff had left for them, the conversation flowing a lot more easily between them than the previous night, now that the tension had cleared, and at some point in the conversation Michael had brought up weapons, turning to Gavin with a burning curiosity in his gaze as he’d asked him which kind of weapon he favoured in battle… which had then led to the revelation that Gavin didn’t exactly know how to wield any weapon.

Michael had looked as horrified by that as Ray had when he’d told him the people of the freelands didn’t wear armour.

And the redhead decided then and there that they immediately needed to rectify the situation, dragging a protesting brit away from the fire and his lunch as he handed over his spare sword and, somehow, managed to coax Gavin into sparring with him (which’d been a huge bloody mistake given that this was Mogar and Gavin was… well Gavin). Eventually, after a lot of failed attempts to teach him how to hold the blade, how to treat it as an extension of yourself, and a whole load of other stuff that went right over Gavin’s head, Michael had seemed to admit defeat, accepting the sword back from the brit with an eye-roll and a look that bore just the slightest hint of concern.

But then Ray had stepped up and offered Gavin his spare bow for the brit to practise with, both him and Michael figuring that it couldn’t exactly end up much worse than his attempts with the sword, though Ryan did set up some precautionary force fields to deflect the arrows from anything that was actually alive in the immediate vicinity, just in case. As it turned out, they hadn’t needed them. Because, as it turned out, when it came to archery, Gavin was a bloody natural.

None of them could really explain it, especially with how poor the brit’s aim had seemed when he’d been attempting to spar with Michael before, but his aim with this weapon was uncanny and as they set challenge after challenge, raising the stakes a little higher each time to really test how far his newly discovered abilities went, he somehow managed to pass them all, with flying colours even.

By the end of the session, Ray was telling him to keep the bow and Ryan was talking about enchanting the arrows for him but what really made Gavin grin was the proud look that Michael had on his face as he’d congratulated the brit on his aim. By the time Geoff and Jack had arrived back at the camp, it’d been to find the rest of the hunters gathered around Gavin, cheering him on as he notched another arrow to his bow and aimed towards the campfire, the arrow piercing the forgotten remnants of Gavin’s lunch moments later to the sounds of Michael’s and Ray’s applause while Ryan had moved to fill Geoff in on what he’d missed.

Even in his elated state though, Gavin couldn’t help but notice the slightly cautious look Jack gave him, especially when he noticed the way he and Michael were interacting now, and he knew he still had to win the man over somehow. The knowledge did sober his mood a little, though thankfully none of the others seemed to notice as they were quickly distracted by Geoff’s rough rundown of how things were in Roosterteeth right now and what they’d discussed with Griffon.

\----

It hadn’t been until much later, when they’d been beginning to pack away camp, ready to move on with their quest, when he’d actually gotten the chance to speak with Jack, the man actually asking him to come gather some last minute supplies as the other hunters began to pack away the tents.

They’d wandered and gathered for a while in relative silence before Jack finally spoke, “You do understand the risks involved with this quest right? I mean those skills you were showing when we first got back would stand up pretty well against a skeleton or a creeper but… these are the Ender. They’re smarter, more dangerous and a lot harder to kill… I just want to make sure you know what risks you’re taking here because chances are, not all of us are going to make it back from this.”

“I know the risks… but it doesn’t matter.”

“Gavin I don’t think you understand, Caleb was a fully fledged warrior and Achievement Hunter and they ran him through, right in front of us, like it was nothing-”  
“I know Jack-”

“Then why are you so insistent on helping us? I don’t know about you, but we’ve already lost one person who thought they could take on the Ender and I’m not ready to lose someone else that way anytime soon.”

“Neither am I. And me coming with you is the way we don’t lose anyone else. Jack, as you said before, these are the Ender. They’re easily the most dangerous threat that this kingdom or any of you have ever faced… you’re going to need all the bloody help you can get.”

“And you’re willing to risk your life for that, for us?”

“In a heartbeat.”

Jack had stared at him for a long moment after that, clearly attempting to assess the truth in his words, before finally admitting, “You know I still haven’t quite got you figured out, Gavin of the freelands. You’re a strange man, and kind of a fucking mystery to all of us but… you’re definitely brave, I’ll give you that… and honestly, you’re right. We do need all the bloody help we can get if we want to survive this.”

“And we will.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I’m not going to let it end any other bloody way.”

\----

An hour later had found the group finally leaving their camp and continuing their journey towards the End, Geoff and Ryan blazing the trail, both sword and staff out and ready as they began to move into more hostile lands, the others just as tense as their hands hovered over their weapons of choice, eyes alert and constantly scanning their surroundings, and Gavin had used the men’s distraction as an opportunity to add more notes to the transcript he was carrying.

First though, he remembered to check the page he’d left notes down the side of earlier, once again being knocked for six when he was his own bloody name staring up at him from the page… he’d quickly flicked past that though, jotting down a quick notes about the importance of developing Gavin’s ‘character’ in this chapter and planting the seeds of companionship and trust between him and the other hunters. He’d also left some pretty extensive notes about his apparent ‘spark’ of potential and the unexpected skills he’d discovered with a bow and arrow, making a deliberate point to finish up with a note to Burnie (though whether the man would receive it or not, Gavin hadn’t the faintest idea) that establishing these skills now would mean they could be used as a plot altering device later in the novel and to bear that in mind when it came to certain scenes later in the book. He’d then quickly shoved the pages away and hurried after hunters, hand moving to rest near his quiver of arrows, bow slung (perhaps a little haphazardly) over his shoulder as he joined the other hunter in their vigilant watch for any enemies that could be lurking in the shadows.

And for the first time since arriving in Achievement City, Gavin could honestly say that if any enemies did make an appearance, he was ready.


	4. In Which A Crisis Occurs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this segment, Gavin’s newly found status as an ‘Achievement Hunter’ is really put to the test as he faces the plot’s first real crisis and is forced to discover, once and for all, if he really does have the capabilities to alter these men’s fates...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, a huge thank you to all of you for your (honestly a little overwhelming) support for this fic! It really means the world :)
> 
> Also a huge shoutout to ‘dashofscarlet' for creating some (gorgeous) fan art for this story which you can check out on her blog on tumblr (and definitely should because its absolutely lovely <3)
> 
> Enjoy!

There were some things, Gavin Free was quickly discovering, that were very different in reality than they were in fiction.

For one, the books had never really covered how long it took to travel from place to place within Achievement City. They’d been travelling for days now and Gavin could still faintly make out the dot on the horizon that was Ramsey tower, plus it’d taken a good couple of days after Geoff had gone to see Griffon for them to even reach the edge of the border between their kingdoms and begin to head south, towards the uncharted lands of the Ender and the rougher lands that bordered that kingdom, harsh places that kept the Hunter’s hands hovering almost constantly over their swords and staffs (or arrows in Gavin’s case).

Of course, the length of their journey did have its benefits, like the fact that it gave him longer to appreciate the incredible, almost ethereal, sort of beauty that Achievement City held (which he imagined probably had something to do with the magic that seemed to be embedded into the very essence of its existence). Or the fact that the long walks gave him ample time to talk with the hunters, listening with avid fascination as they’d retell the tales Burnie had spun about them over the years that somehow took on a new breath of life when he’d heard them directly from the original source of those tales.

He’d also been taking every opportunity, whenever they set up camp, the hone his archery skills with Ray and the few sorcerer’s tricks he’d begun to learn with Ryan. He could actually make sparks shoot from his fingers now, which might not be that useful but looked  _bloody top_. Plus, if he concentrated  _really_ hard, he could even produce a small force field of energy that, according to Ryan, would be able to ward off attacks from skeleton archers or creepers. Of course, it was only a  _very_  small one, roughly about the size of Gavin’s palm at this point but… he had to start somewhere right?

But even with all of that to occupy him, and with the presence of the Achievement Hunters at his side (which at this point was a novelty the Brit honestly believed would never wear off), Gavin still often found himself a little antsy whenever they’d pitch up their tents and set up camp because… Surely _something_  should’ve happened by now, shouldn’t it?

He couldn’t be certain of course, especially since he didn’t really have much to refer to as far as a point of reference as far as establishing a timescale of exactly when events were supposed to unfold went. Burnie’s writing had always been vague at best as far as that was concerned, but it’d been one flaw in an otherwise flawless series (as far as the Brit had been concerned anyway) so it’d never really been something that had bothered him, at least up until he’d somehow found himself within the narrative of his stories. Now it was becoming a serious frustration of his and, if Burnie actually could read the notes Gavin had scrawled across the manuscript, he’d definitely know about it by this point given the angry complaints he’d scrawled across almost every empty space he could find between words in the pages leading up to the first big crisis in Burnie’s work.

Because while Gavin honestly dreaded the day when he’d be forced to step in and save one of the Hunters’ lives, it was getting to the point now where he almost  _wanted_ the Ender to attack them because the more time passed without any kind of incident, the more the Brit seemed to convince himself that he’d somehow mess things up when the time actually came to save his boys… Plus he couldn’t quite shake the notion that they really should’ve, at the very least, come across that field of poisoned roses by now.

After all, it’d seemed so quick in the books, so sudden. One minute the boys had been on a bold and noble quest to protect Achievement City and avenge Caleb, and Gavin had been positive about the outcome of their adventures, the next the Brit had felt as if his heart was being ripped out of his chest and stomped on as the Ender claimed yet another victim for their own… But here they were, several days (perhaps even weeks) into their journey and there hadn’t even been the slightest hint of Ender activity. Not even a whisper of it. The occasional skeleton archer sure, based on the arrows they’d always find embedded into Ryan’s protective warding, and that one incident with the spider where Gavin may have let out an unearthly shrieking noise that he hadn’t quite managed to live down since… though at least now Geoff believed him about the tiny spiders in the freelands. No Ender though, and no Edgar either…

He guessed it was the knowing but not knowing that was getting to him really. Because he knew how each of the men he was travelling with was meant to die, knew in excruciating detail to the point where he’d begun to have increasingly vivid nightmares about it where his mind took the words from Burnie’s transcript and morphed them into something a lot more real, cold, sinister… And he’d often wake up shaking, sometimes screaming even, as Michael or Ray (since the pair had begun to take it in turns to tent share with Gavin whenever they set up camp) would attempt to calm him down a little… And they helped, more than they ever realized, just with the physical, visible and still bloody impossible proof their presences provided; that they were alive, they were fine, they were safe…

But that didn’t change the fact that one day they might not be and not knowing when that change would occur was, slowly but surely, causing Gavin Free to lose his bloody mind.

Plus, he couldn’t quite shake the concerns niggling at the back of his mind because what if the bloody Ender had already figured out why he was here. They were an intelligent race after all, Jack’s words to him before they’d fully set out on this quest had reminded him of that, and more so than any other known threat that the Hunters had faced. Perhaps they’d been spying on them when Gavin had first arrived, or had heard word since of this strange new member that suddenly seemed to be tagging along with them on their quest… And what if they’d adjusted their plans accordingly to counter his presence? What if the hunters were going to bloody die anyway and there still wasn’t anything he could do to stop it?

Unfortunately there wasn’t much Gavin could do to ease these doubts of his. There was no sort of solace in the unchanged, untold future chapters of… well his life now he guessed (and didn’t that sound all bloody fancy and pretentious when taken out of its context). And it wasn’t as if he could confide in the others considering that most of them still didn’t believe he’d come from another world to this one in the first place, and  _all_  of them couldn’t hear what he had to say about Ray and the roses, or Jack and the collapsed shelter or… bloody any of it anyway. Because he remembered Ryan’s words about subtly (and Michael’s apparent lack of it), he remembered the risks here… and he couldn’t dare risk confiding in one of the men he was travelling with when the reward may well be their death.

And so he’d turned instead to any distractions he could find. More archery training, making the small sparks he could now produce dance in the air around him, mentally testing his Achievement Hunter trivia by trying to remember the book’s most famous quotes, and which of the hunters had been responsible for each. His favorite one had been from one of Geoff’s speeches in the first book when he’d been trying to convince Michael to join the hunters.

_‘Let’s ignore the factor of nobility for a moment. What makes a good Hunter? Bravery, honesty, loyalty, a good heart… and it doesn’t damn well matter if its blue or plain old red blood pumping through it. What matters is that it’s a heart that’s willing to put other’s needs before its own desires. A good heart of a good person who aspires within it to see a better, safer world. Class, creed, gender, whatever… that stuff doesn’t matter. Because anyone can be an Achievement Hunter, so long as they have that good heart.’_

It’d been a quote that’d stuck with Gavin long after he’d put that book down, a quote that’d, at large, shaped the man he’d grown into as he’d taken Geoff’s words into his own heart and had tried to aspire to be the sort of person that the Achievement Hunters were, to be the kind of person that Geoff could feel proud to know had they existed in the same reality and… Well the Brit had admittedly felt a little dumb at the time for thinking about it that way but, in hindsight, he supposed all that effort to better himself as a person, and a Hunter, really had paid off since it’d made him into the man Geoff had been willing to take on their quest to combat the Ender and slay their dragon.

There were also other quotes he ran through his head, some of them inspiring, some of them witty one liners from Ray or Ryan or any of them really. One of the things Gavin had always loved the most about these characters, back when he’d still thought of them as characters that was, was the natural sort of banter and snark that seemed to flow between them. That’d been something, Gavin had been pleased to note, that hadn’t differed at all from the way it was written in the books. And what made it even better was that Gavin now had the chance to participate in all of that.

But even snarky one liners, and the never ending disbelieving sort of awe he felt over the fact that he actually got to converse with these quite literally living legends, still didn’t keep him occupied enough to take his mind off his growing fears about this quest all the time. And so he’d resorted to taking the odd little tasks or jobs whenever they’d set up camp. Like gathering herbs, with Ryan for his potions, or Jack for his medical supplies (a duty he’d apparently taken over for Caleb after the Ender had… well after the Hunter had no longer been able to carry out those duties himself anymore).

He’d also taken to gathering firewood when they needed it, usually accompanied by Michael or Ray since they were both still a little paranoid about letting the Brit venture out into the woods, or anywhere really, alone given his lack of experience actually fending off any of the threats that the others were all so well versed in facing by this point. And honestly? Gavin was grateful for their company since he admittedly still felt a little nervous about actually encountering any skeleton archers, or creepers, or even the Ender since the bloody giant great spider had been scary enough and that creature was far from the worst thing that could be lurking in those woods…

He felt a little more confident in open spaces though because at least then he’d be able to see any potential threats coming as he gathered firewood, or herbs, or water as was his task today as he sat himself by the river bed, idly murmuring the incantation to practise his palm sized force fields as he waited for the flasks to fill up for him to take them back to Ryan to be cleansed of any dirt or impurities lingering within the liquid (since apparently the same laws contamination when it came to water applied to Achievement City as much as they did to his own world).

He’d just managed to make the forcefield extend ever so slightly past his thumb when he’d first heard it. A low, quiet yet unmistakable hissing sound. It reminded Gavin a little of a snake really, not that he’d encountered many of those back in his own world but… he’d heard the caricatured versions of the sound, and there  _had_  been that one time with the film director from Italy and the black boxes and the cobra and… yeah, that’d definitely been one of the weirder jobs he’d worked before all this. All the same, the hiss had reminded him of that… well, at least at first.

Because then, as it got louder, he realized there was the faintest sound of buzzing beneath it, not unlike the sound of a wasps nest if you happened to get too close, the way him and his best friend Dan had done more than a few times when they were younger and ended up climbing in wrong trees that just so happened to have some black, yellow and pretty unfriendly inhabitants nestled in their branches…

And since that sound, in his life so far, had been sound associated with a considerable amount of pain, both from the stings and from falling out of the trees he and Dan had climbed in an attempt to get away from the swarm they’d inadvertently managed to piss off, it’d been enough to pull Gavin’s attention away from what he was doing, drawing it instead to the faint rustles in the nearby grass that seemed to be growing closer by the second, and to the way the ground seemed to be shaking now with a slight hum… a hum that had only ever been associated with one thing in Burnie’s books…  _Creepers_.

He’d turned slowly, not quite wanting to believe the connection he’d just drawn in his mind between fiction (well questionable fiction really since he still wasn’t entirely sure how this whole thing bloody worked but that was hardly the bloody point right now) and reality was an accurate one. But, all the same, none of his efforts to wish the monster away would change the fact that there was a creeper standing  _right there_ at the edge of the clearing and drawing closer to him by the second.

There was a long moment where Gavin found himself frozen to the spot, a sense of pure unbridled terror coursing through him as his eyes remained fixed on the approaching creature, his face no doubt pale and drawn as the creeper aptly  _crept_  closer, using its four clawed feet, that almost seemed to resemble some sort of mangled paws, to drag its green scaly body across the grass. And its eyes were more intelligent than Gavin had expected them to be, cold, calculating and clearly capable of acknowledging the Brit’s presence beside the waters… And, because of that, Gavin knew there was no way in hell this thing was going to let him run.

Which, at the very least, made the whole question fight or flight pretty easy to resolve. What was less easy however was finding the courage to actually notch an arrow to his bow and fire. He knew, after all, that he couldn’t yell for the other hunters help either. Doing so would startle the creature and then Gavin’s already fairly slim chances of coming out of this encounter alive would drop to zero and the creature would explode, taking the Brit with it in a sudden burst of fire and ash.

And suddenly Gavin found himself understanding why Jack had taken him aside before at the start of this quest, why Michael had seemed so concerned when he’d learnt the Brit had no weapons training and why Ray had remained so adamant that Gavin needed chainmail, or enchanted clothing, or something other than the baggy clothes he wore to protect him… because suddenly the dangers he’d boldy sworn to face before had become a lot more bloody real as he continued to meet the creeper’s inky black gaze…

But he’d promised to himself that he’d face down those dangers for the Hunters, promised that he’d help them defeat the Ender and avenge Caleb and… how the hell was he meant to keep his bloody word if he couldn’t even take out a creeper without someone holding his hand?

So, with a newfound determination in his eyes and a heady cocktail of fear and adrenaline coursing through him, he’d finally notched an arrow to his bow, eyes holding the creeper’s as the slightest grin had curved his lips as he’d _released_ … only for said grin to rapidly replaced itself with a look a sheer panic moments later when the first arrow failed to kill the creature. In fact, beyond wounding it a little, all it’d seemed to do was make the creature mad… and if Marvel movies had taught the Brit anything it was not to piss off the scary, menacing looking, green things in life, because you definitely wouldn’t like them when they were angry.

He quickly nocked another arrow to his bow, backing up a little now as the creeper seemed to increase its crawl towards the Brit, a movement that honestly reminded Gavin a little of the way a bull would charge at its challenger in a bullfighting ring and… okay that probably wasn’t the most useful of comparisons to be making right now since he doubted waving a red flag would particularly help his situation right now… He’d been more careful with his aim this time, knowing too many failed attempts to take out the creature with these arrows would be the Brit’s undoing, not to mention he only had a limited number of them to work with here anyway and, as much as he hated to think it, there might be more of its kind lurking in the shadows and he’d need to have weapons left to fight with if there were.

He’d lined up the second arrow so that it’d pierce right through the creature’s eye socket, letting out an audible sigh of relief moments later when the arrow met its mark and the creeper suddenly faltered, the weapon piercing straight through its skull. Another arrow through what Gavin guessed was the creature’s heart and it finally fell, and thankfully without actually exploding in the process…

And afterwards he’d stood there for a moment, breathing heavily as he gulped down desperate bursts of air he’d almost been convinced he’d never get to breathe again… And that thought had been all it’d taken for the Brit to collapse to the ground at the creatures side, a delirious sort of laughter coming to his lips as he realized he’d actually done it. He’d actually managed to take out a bloody creeper.

He figured it was probably said laughter that had alerted Michael to the fact that something was wrong, the redhead bursting through into the clearing moments later only to find the creeper slain and Gavin on the ground next to him in fits of laughter, his fingers still clutching tightly to his bow and it didn’t really take a genius to figure out why given the three arrows now embedded into the creeper’s hide.

Michael had been at his side in seconds, sharp concerned eyes quickly assessing the creeper, as the warrior made damn sure it really was dead, before they’d shifted to the Brit, helping him up from the ground once his laughter had finally subsided, “I knew we shouldn’t have let you fucking wander off on your own like that… you have to be the luckiest dumbass I’ve ever come across in my fucking life.” And then the Michael’s expression had broken out into a proud, and slightly relieved, sort of smile as he’d clapped the Brit lightly on the back, wandering over moments later to inspect his kill.

And whatever he saw there, he seemed to approve of given the way he flashed the Brit a quick grin as he gently eased out the arrow embedded in creature’s skull, handing it over to Gavin to clean before he’d moved back to extract the other two, “Or maybe just the most talented one. Not fucking bad for your first kill, for most warriors it takes at least five or six to bring down their first creeper, and usually that’s after they’ve at least brought down a spider or two first… Guess we were right when we figured you were a natural with this stuff huh?”

He’d rolled his eyes as Gavin, still honestly a little giddy from having bloody survived the ordeal, did a little jokey bow, receiving a light shove to the side and a ‘dumbass’ for his efforts before Michael handed over the final two arrows, Gavin shifting over to the bank to run them through the stream, washing away blood and who knew what else (Gavin didn’t and he was pretty bloody sure he’d never want to know either) from the weapons before returning them to his quiver. Meanwhile, Michael still seemed to be inspecting the dead creeper, the redhead carefully running a hand over its scales for a moment before he’d turned his focus back to the Brit, “Creepers may be ugly looking fuckers but their scales can make pretty damn good armor if you arrange them right. I mean its not fucking ideal but… its something. And it’ll sure send a hell of a message to anyone who sees it…”

“Kind of like your bearskin?”

Michael’s lips curled a little at that, “Kind of, I mean that’s mostly just for show. Doesn’t do much against the fucking Ender but it sure as hell keeps the assholes in Geoff’s court that think I’m inferior for being of ‘lowly origins’ off my back… Plus, it does look pretty fucking badass.” Gavin grinned a little at that, not exactly able to argue with that fact since the bearskin really did make the man look bloody top. It gave his look an edge of sorts, even when stood alongside the other hunter’s far from unimpressive armor, because there was a feral sort of fierceness that the bear pelt seemed to add to the warrior’s look. A primal, instinctive sort of power that he imagined would scare off anyone who didn’t take the time to get to know the man any better… and given how hostile the man appeared to be at first when it came to dealing with strangers, he imagined it was an effort that not too many of the people in Geoff’s court had bothered to make.

“I guess having armor’s not such a bad idea.”

“Course it isn’t, plus it’ll make damn sure those same assholes stay off your case when we return to Achievement City at the end of all this, since I’m guessing someone of the freelands isn’t exactly of ‘noble birth’ either.”

It’d taken longer than perhaps it should’ve for Gavin to respond to that, the words ‘return to Achievement City’ and ‘at the end of all this’ whirring around in his head as he suddenly realized he’d never thought to even consider what might happen after all of this if they  _did_ succeed, a little too preoccupied by his fears of what’d happen if they didn’t… But the picture the redhead was painting, of unnerved nobility and Gavin getting to visit Achievement City’s throne room, to meet Lindsay and Kerry and see the inside of the infamous Ramsey tower, to be recognized by Geoff’s people as an official Achievement Hunter… well it wasn’t exactly one that the Brit objected to all that strongly really.

“Yeah, there aren’t really many nobles where I’m from, and if there are, I’m definitely not one of them.”

“Well, in that case, you’re going to have to fight just as damn hard as I did to earn their respect. Fucked up I know but so is the whole goddamn system and while Geoff’s been doing what he can to fix that… we’ve still got a hell of a long fucking way to go yet. So you’ll have to impress them somehow, and the best way to start with that is to make a fucking impact. I don’t really make bets, but I’d still bet good fucking money on the fact that none of Geoff’s councillors have ever fought a creeper and lived to tell the tale… So they’d definitely fucking sit up and take notice if you walked into your first council wearing armor made out of its scales.”

Gavin couldn’t help but grin a little at the image, the thought of him seeming intimidating, a young weedy looking man with messy hair who’d spent most of his life sat, behind a camera, a video game console or with one of Burnie’s books in hand, as someone even remotely menacing seeming bloody ridiculous to him really. But Michael seemed convinced otherwise and Gavin couldn’t exactly argue that armor may well prove to be a pretty bloody useful thing to have as they carried on with their quest, especially since a creeper was far from the most menacing creature he could end up facing out there…

“Yeah okay, let’s make me some bloody top creeper armor,” He’d offered with an excited rush of enthusiasm, turning back to look at the creeper laid out across the side of the river bank… It was then of course that he remembered he had no bloody idea how to go about even starting to fashion together such a thing, “…I don’t suppose you could show me how to-”

“Come here idiot, we’ll do it together.” The redhead had offered with a slight eyeroll, and a smile Gavin was tempted to call fond, before moving to begin carefully separating the creepers scales from its body with one of the razor sharp knives he carried on his belt.

They’d sat there by the riverbed for the next hour or so, Ray joining them there at some point after he’d been sent to ‘make sure those assholes hadn’t drowned or something’ given how long it’d taken for either Michael or Gavin to return to the camp. And the three of them had sat side by side, shoes off and feet dipping in the stream as they worked together on fashioning the armour for Gavin.

It’d ended up looking just as bloody top as Gavin had hoped, maybe more so, and definitely as menacing as Michael had suggested it’d be as the slipped the armor on over Gavin’s shoulders, leading him over to the water to get a good look at his reflection in its depths… Because, as the Brit was surprised to discover as he gaze down into the river below, the reflection of the man draped in the creeper’s scales didn’t really look like him at all. He looked braver, tougher, a little wild even… and suddenly Gavin got what Michael had meant about the armor making an impression because if he could make an impression like that upon himself with this new look, imagine how much he’d be able to impress the nobles with it in Geoff’s court. That was, if they all managed to make it back there of course but, and maybe it was the high of surviving his tangle with the creeper that was really saying this but, Gavin couldn’t help but feel a little more optimistic about their chances as they’d wandered back to their camp and the other Hunters.

The men there had all seemed relatively impressed that he’d managed to slay a creeper on his first try, and Gavin didn’t miss the relief in Geoff’s eyes when the King had noted the scaled armor he now wore. He’d been directed over to Ryan shortly after that who’d added a light enchantment to the armor, for added durability and protection, before offering to run him through the exercises to help strengthen his protective force fields again. Meanwhile, the other Hunters had gotten back to doing… well whatever it was they’d been doing before Gavin had managed to stumble upon a creeper.

A night later and they were on the road (or ambiguous grassy pathway as Gavin chose to refer to it) again as they once again continued to head closer towards the Ender stronghold.

And now that they’d covered a little more ground, Gavin was starting to notice the way the environment around them seemed to growing more and more hostile with every step they took to the point that he could almost feel the residual danger lingering in the air around them. An air that seemed to have taken on an unseasonal wintery chill as the icy cold breeze began to snake its way through his lungs instead of simply being naturally drawn in with every inhale and out with every exhale. In short, it was bloody cold. Or ‘cold as dicks’ as Geoff has chosen to put it as they’d huddled around the fire one night, Gavin suddenly even more grateful for the existence of his creeper armor since it seemed to be doing quite a bit as far as shielding him from the cold went, as did the blankets they’d all carried out from their tents that night to huddle in for extra warmth.

The weird thing was… they still hadn’t actually left Achievement City. Achievement City in summer even, and yet suddenly the place they were in was nothing like the magical, wondrous place Gavin had fallen in love with when he’d read the books it was… bleak to say the least. And he couldn’t quite shake the feeling, because of that, that perhaps he was living out the foreshadowing he’d read about in Burnie’s books. The same kind of foreshadowing that’d crept into the narrative just before Ray’s… He shook off the notion, or perhaps just shook as a sudden gust of icy cold air seemed to penetrate the blankets Gavin was swathed in. And, looking around, the other Hunters didn’t seem to be faring much better than he was…

It’d been Ray who’d eventually broke and suggested that they huddle for warmth and, after a little light natured teasing, from Geoff and Michael especially, they’d all acceded that it was a better plan than bloody freezing to death, shifting around a little so that they were all huddled as close to the fire as possible and somehow Gavin had wound up in Geoff’s lap.

He didn’t comment on it though, even as his cheeks flushed a darker red that hadn’t entirely been put their by the cold winds and he knew Geoff had noticed based on the warm, rich chuckle he could hear whispering its way over the shell of his ear and… well honestly it was a good thing it was so bloody cold and there was a small mountain of blankets draped across his legs because otherwise the King might’ve seen something about this situation that he wouldn’t find quite so amusing.

And somehow they’d managed to fall asleep like that; something which had naturally resulted in a lot of achy limbs from sleeping at weird angles and Geoff’s left leg had been numb for a good fifteen minutes after he’d gotten up from where the Brit had been sat across it. He hadn’t seemed to mind too much though, even with the playful ribbing he’d given Gavin for it as the others had begun to pack up their camp.

The new day had, thankfully, brought equally new, and slightly warmer, temperatures as the sun rose across the fields they wandered through, a mixture of that and the fresh sort of country air that seemed to inhabit the whole of Achievement City setting the Brit’s mind at ease a little… that was until he started to recognize little details from that final book, details he only remembered because of the intense foreshadowing Burnie had included to build up to that damned poisoned rose and…

There it was. They’d turned past some trees and there they were, innocently nestled in the grass surrounding them as if they were any common flower, as if both petals and thorns hadn’t been poisoned. He stared at them for a long moment before any of the others notice, bracing himself a little for this make or break moment as he fully prepared himself to quite possibly sound a little bit like a madman…

But as he opened his mouth to warn Ray, he found himself unable to speak as if something was physically hindering his lips from forming around the words. And as he continued to silently scream at Ray to step away from the flowers, it became increasingly apparent that the hunter couldn’t hear him, that none of them could for that matter. Because still he couldn’t seem to get the sound past his lips, even though his throat felt hoarse from silent, frenzied yells and he was pretty sure, had any of the hunters turned to face him in that moment, they’d see his cheeks red from the exertion of trying to make his voice bloody heard… But it wasn’t and they continued not to hear him and Ray continued to wander closer, almost as if he was being drawn in by some kind of enchantment and… Suddenly it was making a lot more sense why, in the book, Ray had felt so compelled to pick a rose from this particular rose field.

But the satisfaction of tying up a loose end in Burnie’s otherwise fairly well rounded narrative was pretty bloody insignificant when compared with the sheer terror he could feel coursing through him in response to this feeling of utter bloody powerlessness and Ray continued to move towards the rose bed and he still couldn’t seem to hear him and he needed to because if he bloody didn’t Ray was going to bloody die and he couldn’t let that happened, not when he’d promised to change things, not when they’d already come so far. Ray couldn’t bloody die! He couldn’t let this happen. There had to be a way. There had to be a bloody way because no way in hell was he going to let the Hunter die here like this again, not to the hands of a bloody flower and…

It was as if something within him had suddenly snapped into place and, before he even knew what he was doing, his palm was out, lips murmuring the incantation Ryan had taught him, the clearing filling with a blazing light moments later as a force field a lot bloody bigger than his palm shot out of it, knocking Ray to the ground just inches from the nearest rose… which, thankfully, had seemed to be enough to shake the hold of whatever enchantments had been placed over him and the other Hunters as Ray and the other seemed to break from their trance like states and suddenly Gavin found himself capable of speech once more.

“What the hell Gav-”

“They’re poisoned. They’re all bloody poisoned just… please. You have to believe me. Pick a rose from any other bloody field but, not this one.  _Please_.”

The group had turned to Ryan for a second opinion after that, the sorcerer murmuring a few words under his breath and suddenly there was a black smoke hovering over the roses and Ryan’s face had turned paler than even his probably was right now as he’d confirmed the Brit’s suspicions.

After that, a heavy sort of silence had fallen upon the group as Ray had quickly stumbled away from the flowers, pale and a little shaky as he half-collapsed to the ground next to Gavin, the two of them watching in an uneasy sort of silence as Michael and Jack moved to set the flowers ablaze. Geoff, in the meanwhile, had taken Ryan aside, clearly not having missed the way the sorcerer’s expression had paled any more than Gavin had and based on the frown on Geoff’s face, he didn’t exactly like the news he was hearing as they discussed what’d just happened in hushed tones that the Brit couldn’t quite make out, no matter how hard he tried.

His focus, however, was mainly on the still shaken looking warrior at his side. The man he’d just saved the life of, though he found he couldn’t really find it within him to celebrate that right now, not when Ray who was usually so full of snark and easy smiles looked so scared and bloody vulnerable in that moment and clearly needed him to be a little more sympathetic than that right now. The man’s vulnerability was almost an expression which seemed out of place on the Hunter’s face, certainly one Gavin hoped he’d never have to see again during this quest (though he sincerely doubted he’d be quite so lucky as that).

He’d sat and waited patiently until the man felt ready to speak, offering him reassurances and understanding smiles that didn’t quite reach the Brit’s eyes, despite his best efforts to make them do so, as Ray had begun to start thanking Gavin and musing over the what ifs had the Brit not been around to save him. And Gavin honestly didn’t have the heart to tell him that he didn’t have to muse over those things because he already knew how  _that_ particular story ended, knew it in fact in almost excruciating detail.

Eventually, the hunter seemed to calm a little and, by the time he had, Jack and Michael’s handiwork was done and Geoff and Ryan seemed to be done with whatever they’d been discussing and they were all just about ready to move out…

It’d been then that the Ender had first made an appearance in Gavin’s story.

There hadn’t really been any warning beforehand, not like with the creeper he’d faced before, just a sudden chill at the back of his neck and then suddenly he’d spun to find himself face to face with a towering black and almost skeletal figure, though not quite so skeletal as he imagined the skeleton archers would be… There was a thin layer of oily black skin, almost like tar, that wound itself across the bones of these creatures and their arms hung, long, sleek and ending in razor sharp talons that had Gavin’s breath catching in his throat a little. What really made the Brit shudder, however, was the creature’s eyes. Cold and burning with an intensity and intelligence that reminded Gavin exactly why it was  _this_ creature that was the most feared in all of the known realms.

It’d been Geoff who’d struck the first blow, Ray and Michael quickly following suit and soon all of the hunters had whirred into action, blades and staffs whirling through the air as they and the Ender who’d, no doubt, come to take care of them began to fight… And suddenly Gavin found himself fighting with them, notching an arrow to his bow and aiming for one of the Ender’s shoulders as they moved their arm back to swipe at Jack from behind, nocking another arrow to his bow and aiming for the skull of the one that Ray was fighting. And it seemed as if he’d fired countless arrows before the Ender that’d come for them finally began to falter, one of them even falling as Geoff managed to embed his sword in their skull, another following suit moments later as it finally fully fell victim to Ryan’s enchantments…

And he’d been so busy feeling relieved about that, he’d barely noticed the Ender stalking towards him until he suddenly he felt a searing hot pain tear through his shoulder and a concerned cry of his name from one of the hunters (Geoff maybe? It was hard to tell with the way his head suddenly felt so fuzzy) and seconds later he was on the ground, screaming a little as the Ender’s poison burned into the gashes the creature’s claws had left there…

Two of the hunters were at his side in moments… Jack and Ryan, as far as he could make out, which’d make sense really he guessed given the situation. He imagined Ray, Geoff and Michael were probably all converging on the remaining Ender right now even as he felt Ryan use that levitating charm on his body, allowing him and Jack to carry him out of the direct line of conflict without jostling his wounds too much. The sorcerer quickly moved through his supplies, hand finally settling over a small vial that seemed to give off a stench not all that dissimilar to rotting, causing the Brit to wrinkle his nose a little as the man had uncapped it and had begun to apply a little to the wound as a salve. He’d very nearly gagged when Ryan had fed him the rest, squirming a little in Jack’s patient grip as he waited for the vile taste to subside, only vaguely registering Ryan’s absence as the sorcerer left to rejoin the conflict as the initial bile-inducing taste finally began to fade a little from his tastebuds. And, whatever it’d been, it seemed to be working given the way the alarming sort of blackened skin that’d begun to form around the wound now seemed to be shrinking back a little and the pain with it.

Jack had stayed at his side until the pain was bearable, dressing his wounds as carefully and delicately as he could, his gentle hands almost soothing even as they traced over the still fading burn the Ender’s claws had set alight within him. He’d been quiet as the man worked, simply watching with an awed sort of fascination as he’d treated the wound with some sort of herbal salve before creating a makeshift bandage for him out of a torn up bedsheet. And, after that, he’d turned his assessing eyes to Gavin, studying him for a long moment before he’d asked him, “Are you okay? Ender venom’s not exactly fucking fun to deal with, believe me I know that,” And the man definitely did given that he’d been the one Ryan had figured out that cure on, having to frantically concoct multiple potions in the short time frame he’d had to save the man’s life, and now Gavin’s… and okay that was far too unnerving a thought to be having right now, “…But what you did today was really brave. And saving Ray too, just… thank you.”

“No problem Jack, its what I promised myself I’d do… and I fully intend to keep those promises.”

“I’m starting to see that now. Does the wound still hurt at all?”

“A little, but not like the burning before.”

“You realise that this injury will probably scar don’t you?”

“Yeah but all of you guys have them too. And its nothing to be embarrassed over I mean, its something to be bloody proud of.”

“How so?”

“It’ll serve as a reminder of the day I saved Ray’s life.” Jack’s expression seemed to soften a little at that comment, turning fond even as he rolled his eyes goodnaturedly at him.

“You’re a good fit for the group you know… Because you’re just as much of a fucking reckless idiot as the rest of us.”

“Oi”” He tried to maintain his mock offence, even as Jack chuckled about the situation, he really did. But there was something in that fond smile on his lips that made it bloody impossible to do so because in that moment, that he knew he’d finally fully earned the man’s trust. And honestly that knowledge was worth a thousand bloody battle scars.


	5. Denouement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All crises leave their scars. Time doesn't heal all wounds and as for the ones it does? Well it certainly doesn't heal them overnight...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again a HUGE thank you to everyone who's supported this story so far. I continue to be utterly overwhelmed by the love this story's receiving so far- thank you so much! Also, a huge shoutout to ‘dashofscarlet' (over on tumblr) for creating even more of her (gorgeous) fan art for this story :) Enjoy!

It was official; Gavin Free couldn’t bloody sleep.

He’d been trying to drift off for what felt like hours now, shifting around on the small mound of blankets sprawled out across the ground in the desperate attempts to get at least _somewhat_ comfortable… which had never exactly been easy given that the transition between the beds he’d been used to back home and the cold earthy ground had kind of been a shock to the system to say the least. But now? It was practically bloody impossible thanks to the gash in his shoulder. Because sure it wasn’t exactly lethal anymore, thanks to Ryan and Jack’s quick thinking during the conflict with the Ender to remove most of the venom but… that didn’t stop it from bloody _burning_ whenever he accidentally turned onto that side in the night. To be fair, Jack _had_ warned him the venom would take a while to burn out of his system once the man had finished patching him up but… he’d had no idea a while would translate to weeks later with hardly _any_ bloody improvement in that respect.

He guessed the main reason it was so bloody frustrating was because this was another one of those things Burnie’s novels hadn’t really managed to prepare him for before he’d suddenly found himself in the middle of Achievement City. Because the truth was, save that one incident with the skeleton mob and Ray in book three, and of course the Ender attacks in the book preceding the story he supposed was _his_ now (and wasn’t that _still_ a bloody weird thought to have), the concept of recovery time for injuries, or even the aftermath of receiving the wounds, had barely even been touched upon in the series. Because, like with the seemingly endless amount of time it took to traverse Achievement City, the man had skirted over the passage of time required, allowing Gavin to assume it’d barely be an issue, -something about things being easy

As Gavin was rapidly learning, nothing in this bloody world was as easy as the books had painted them to be… and he suddenly found himself with a whole new level of respect for the men he was travelling with because of it. All of them had experienced numerous wounds deep enough to leave battle scars after all and none of them had bloody complained in that series once.

And so Gavin had resolved to do the same, even as he still felt the light burn of the wound every time the breeze or his armor or one of the other hunters accidentally caught it, the pain ratcheting up to something searing and almost unbearable whenever he accidentally leant or slept on it. He’d been shocked awake more than enough times now by a sudden rush of the white hot pain by this point to realize that Burnie had _seriously_ been underplaying the aftermath of the Ender’s bloody venom.

Plus, even though the wound wasn’t fully healed yet, he could already tell that the man had been right about the scarring though, based on the angry red line that’d begun to form along the patches of skin that had finally managed to succumb to Jack’s salves and Ryan’s sorcery. He guessed time didn’t heal _all_ wounds then.

And the gash to his shoulder wasn’t the only scar the Ender had left behind.

Because along with the physical wounds Gavin had sustained, those creatures had left behind a tense sort of restlessness, and a sense of dread that’d quickly settled over the hunters to the point that they’d all become hyper aware, and bloody paranoid if the Brit was entirely honest, of their surroundings, of any potential threats or monsters that could be looming in the dark…

Michael had taken to going on frequent patrols around the camp, night or day, to scope out possible enemies. Sometimes he’d take Geoff along and the two would discuss ways to fortify their current campsite better, sometimes he’d take Jack and guard the man as he gathered any extra herbs he required, sometimes he’d take Ray and they’d spar for a few hours, both of their focuses drawn more to their surroundings than each other as then remained tense and vigilant, almost as if they were expecting something, or someone, to attack at any moment… and really, Gavin supposed they were.

Sometimes he’d take Ryan, and Gavin was pretty sure the redhead had him using his magic to test seemingly innocuous objects around wherever they were camping when he did, checking that they hadn’t been poisoned like the rose… And on the times where Gavin tagged along? The redhead would take him to some open field, more determined than ever now to train him up with a sword because a bow and arrows ‘wouldn’t fucking cut it’ at short distance and the man didn’t want to leave Gavin to depend on magic alone in those circumstances… especially when they still weren’t entirely sure how much it actually affected these creatures. Because the Ender seemed to have, to a certain degree at least, an immunity to the spells a sorcerer cast. No one could be sure why, even Gavin didn’t have a bloody clue which meant that Burnie probably hadn’t had one either but… for some reason, the Ender’s ties to magic seemed to surpass their own.

It was what made Gavin bloody certain that it hadn’t been them that’d cast the enchantment over those bloody roses… something that Ryan seemed to suspect himself, given the way the man had taken to putting up at least twice as many wards around the camp now. He barely slept either, large dark circles under the sorcerer’s eyes giving the man away and, as far as Gavin could tell, it was because the man was working on newer, more experimental, enchantments in the hopes of somehow outsmarting the Ender. And honestly, the Brit believed it was worth a shot. After all, if anyone could find a loophole in these creatures’ apparent ‘immunity’, it’d be him…

Geoff had taken a few precautions of his own too, leaving early one morning to make contact with one of the nearby villages and pleading with them to send two of their faster messengers, one to the kingdom of Roosterteeth, to Griffon, and one to Lindsay and Kerry in Achievement City, to warn them of recent developments, to ensure that they all knew to fortify themselves and those in their care against potential attacks on a far greater scale than any of them had _dared_ to believe these creatures capable of. He’d also noticed the way their King watched them now, gaze sharper with just a hint of concern and an obvious protective streak that Gavin was amazed, and a little humbled, to realize extended to him as much as the other men… the elated sort of joy he’d usually feel over such developments though was muted a little by the fear he could also see ever present in the man’s gaze. Because he knew that fear all too well by this point.

As for Jack? Even when the man wasn’t with Michael, he’d started to gather more of the supplies for his potions and salves and… he knew the others had noticed. He’d seen the grateful looks Geoff would shoot him, the grim looks of determination on the other’s faces as they caught sight of his new ingredients, all of them sharing the uncomfortable thought that they’d be needing every last plant and herb and root he’d gathered by the time they’d finished this quest. Because here they were, not even in hostile territory yet, and one of them had almost died… and it hadn’t been Ray.

And honestly, that'd been another thing that’d really been bothering him ever since that conflict with the Ender because… they hadn’t followed the attack pattern written into the books. They’d been meant to be targeting Ray after all, swarming him so that he’d shift around enough for the thorns of the rose he was wearing to break skin and yet… they’d barely even paid the man a second glance. No instead, they’d come for him.

The story had already begun to bloody change and Gavin Free was honestly terrified by that because it meant that he wasn’t the only force in this tale that was capable of rewriting it...

Even considering that though, Ray was still suffering from this situation a lot bloody worse than he was.

In the first week or so after the ‘incident’, the man had been… well almost silent really. He’d stopped participating in the discussions the hunters shared so much, instead focussing his energies on remaining constantly alert and always aware of his surroundings. And even outside of the sparring he often did with Michael, the man had always _always_ been attempting to hone his technique. He’d sparred with Geoff, he’d sparred with Jack, he’d sparred with Ryan and even Gavin a few times, despite the fact that the Brit was still bloody hopeless with a sword. And whenever the other hunters were busy? The man had taken to targeting unfortunate trees to hone his skills, or tracking and taking out any stray creepers or archers that happened to stray into their path… or anything within a five mile radius of it.

He’d barely slept and had gotten to the point where he’d been practically bloody starving himself… well, that was until Geoff had pulled him aside for what must’ve been a pretty bloody stern word because after that, the man had stopped skipping meals and the bags under his eyes had gradually started to recede a little.

And as the the next two weeks had passed, and the man even begun to cut down the hours spent sparring, or obsessively perfecting his sword work, Ray seemed to _finally_ be on the mend. He could tell, at the very least, that their fellow hunters were convinced but… then again, none of the rest of them shared a tent with the man.

Gavin knew better though. Because Gavin was the only one who’d gotten to see Ray when he’d believed no one was watching. He’d caught him sometimes, lying there wide awake and staring at that deep red rose insignia on his armor, face pale and hands bearing that slight tremor he’d seen in them after the close encounter with those bloody roses… And if that alone hadn’t been enough to convince him of the man’s hidden inner demons, he’d also overheard the man’s nightmares. The screaming, the pleading, the wild thrashing when the dreams got really intense… and the pleas were never for himself, always for the other hunters, and Gavin knew in his heart that the man was dreaming up the scenarios that’d once been their fate... and that, if the Brit’s fears were correct, might still be.

Because now they were all beginning to share in the nightmare Gavin had been attempting to fend off since the moment he’d arrived here, the nightmare of their own mortality, the nightmare of their terrifyingly probable deaths…

Those weren’t the only reasons Gavin couldn’t sleep though. Because beyond his concern for Ray’s wellbeing, for all the men’s for that matter, as well as the visible scars the encounter with the Ender had left him with, there was another way that those bloody creatures had managed to make their mark on him; fear.

It was like Ray had said once in the novels, “Legends can spin a pretty tale about a monster. They can talk of its maliciousness or the destruction it leaves in its wake… but those are just stories. And the real monster will always been worse, more dangerous, more deadly… because until then you’ve only been faced with your imagination. And an imagined thing can’t kill the way a real living monster can… and will.”

He’d experienced it to a lesser degree after his first encounter with the Creeper. The fear, the rush of paranoia he’d get whenever he’d managed to convince himself that the rush of the wind through the trees had sounded like a hiss, the sudden lump he’d sometimes get in his throat when he looked down at the scales of his own bloody armor… but that was nothing in comparison to now.

Because Creepers were terrifying, of course they were. They were scaly, hulking beasts and Gavin had been seriously bloody lucky to survive his first encounter with one but… the Ender were something else entirely...

It was the bloody eyes that wouldn’t leave his mind. The obviously intelligence lingering within them, more intelligent than even the books or the warnings from the other hunters travelling with him had made out. Cold, calculating yet at the same time empty, not quite… _whole_ in a sense. Like the monsters of a child’s nightmares usually were; dark and shapeless monsters in the dark... And in many respects their resemblance to those creatures had made them seem almost intangible in those first few moments he’d seen them, like his arrows might pass straight through that skeletal form if he’d actually notched an arrow to his bow and aimed…

Of course the battle that’d then ensued and those sharp, talon like, claws had quickly rid him of _that_ particular notion. Even now, whenever he closed his eyes, he could almost _feel_ the talons tearing through him… and there’d been a moment in that searing, white hot, bloody _unbearable_ pain where all he’d been able to think of, even though the hazy fog that’d suddenly begun to settle over his senses, was Caleb of House Denacour.

Because for all of the narrative gaps Burnie’s novels had possessed in terms of time lapses, they certainly hadn’t skipped over the details when it’d come to the man’s passing… in fact, even as he’d read it, Gavin had found himself feeling this phantom pain of the venom rushing through Caleb’s body as he shuddered and jolted and began to convulse a little, Ryan’s magic eventually, at the very least, managing to ease the man’s passing.

But those terrifying moments before that, where all the man could feel was his own agony, and all most of the hunters could do was look on in horror as he’d suffered… those had been the moments playing over in his head, over and over again, and for a long moment he’d been convinced of just one simple fact; he was going to bloody die right there in that field.

And even after the immediate danger had passed, Gavin’s fears had endured because he was now painfully aware of the fact that his safety was limited and temporary, that sooner or later the Ender would return for him and his boys and that _this_ time they might not be quite so bloody lucky…

The main reason Gavin Free couldn’t bloody sleep tonight was that he was honestly afraid of what he’d see once he closed his eyes.

\----

“...Gav? You awake?” Came Ray’s soft, and ever so slightly hesitant, whisper about an hour or so later as he’d slipped inside the tent. The hunter taken care to cautiously edge around the Brit where he lay sprawled out across the tent, settling himself down towards the corner of it and pulling the blankets around his smaller form.

And honestly, the Brit had never seen Ray look as vulnerable as he did in that moment, eyes wide, expression tentative and the blankets swathing him to the point where the man looked tiny, fragile… even though he knew for a fact that Ray was anything _but_ that.

Or at least he usually was. Right now though? Gavin wasn’t so sure as he shifted back a little, careful not to catch his shoulder in the process, before turning to face the other hunter… only for him to let out a low cuss moments later as he accidentally managed to catch _that bloody side_ that he’d been so desperately trying to avoid… And of course Ray had noticed the hushed cuss and the accompanying grimace that came with it, “That’s _still_ hurting you? Do you want me to go get Jack? Maybe he can make a salve or something, take the edge off a little.”

Gavin was quick to wave off the man’s offer, knowing by this point that there really wasn’t much else the man could do for him and really the man had already done more than enough for him,  “It’s fine Ray, I’ve had worse.”

“You’re full of shit Gavin Free.”

“Oi! I am not I… wait, did you just call me ‘Gavin Free’?” There’d been a long bear of silence as the significance of that title sunk in for both of them because… if he was Free instead of ‘of the freelands’, did that mean Ray...

“Yeah, I guess I did… what happened with those roses kind of made me reassess a few things and… well you knew exactly what the Ender were planning with those roses. You knew, even when Ryan hadn’t realized it, and that damn well saved my life… and since the last time I checked prophecy wasn’t actually a thing, and you’ve never exactly struck me as a liar… I believe you. Weird as it sounds to say it, you came from another world… which actually explains a lot about, like your dumb hair and goofy accent.”

“Oi!” There’d been the slightest grins on both of their lips though and honestly, it might’ve been the first actual genuine smile either of them had worn in weeks now since the adrenaline of their encounter had finally worn off and the weight of what’d actually happened there had finally set in.

“You did get one thing wrong about us though… because Geoff was right, we are real. I’m not really sure how this all works, why we’re fictional in your world and how this author knew enough about us to write these books in the first place…”

“You and me both Ray.”

“...but I know that we’re real. The same way I know that Michael’s the most formidable warrior in the known realms, though I’d never say that to the asshole’s face. Head’s big enough already without me adding to the ‘stuff of legends’ hype he has about him. And the same way I know that you wouldn’t lie to me. I know you’ll be honest if I ask so... Gav, do we seem real to you?” It was then that the Brit had noticed how nervous Ray seemed right now, how his voice had wavered a little as he’d asked and… suddenly he realized what it really was that’d been bothering the man.

It hadn’t been the threat of death, but the one of never truly existing in the first place…

And perhaps, when he’d first arrived in Achievement City, his answer would’ve been a different one. Back then he’d been filled with thoughts of the men as characters, as protagonists, as devices with which to drive a plot… but not as people, not completely anyway. He hadn’t realized it at first, but he’d only stopped thinking of them as characters after he’d really gotten to know them. Formed tentative bonds with them, talked with them, ate with them, slept with them, fought alongside them… and somewhere along the lines they’d stopped being characters in his eyes and started just being men, men who’d just so happened to be born in a different reality to his but that still didn’t make them any less bloody _real._

They weren’t just plot devices and, honestly, Gavin was pretty bloody sure at this point that they never had been, he’d just initially been too much of an idiot to see it. But they were people and acknowledging that had been what’d triggered his bloody nightmares in the first place. Because saving a group of fictional characters was one thing but… saving the group of men you were rapidly starting to consider as your closest friends? Well, that was something else entirely.

“Yeah… Yeah of course you’re bloody real you pleb.”

“Hey, you’re the one who was saying we weren’t before.” The man teased, but Gavin could see the relief in the man’s eyes, the force of it so potent that it almost became tangible in the air between them.

“I technically never directly said it… more implied than anything.”

“Yep, real or not real, you’re definitely _really_ still full of shit.”

“Hey!” There was a slight scuffle in which Gavin jokingly launched himself at Ray, completely forgetting for a moment that his shoulder was still pretty torn up… well that was until he managed to catch it on the way down, Ray’s arm thankfully managing to halt the Brit’s momentum before he managed to faceplant the floor.

And as the man had gently eased him back to a sitting position, he was pretty sure he caught just a whisper of a soft, “Thanks Gav,” before the man had shifted back to settle down against the blankets, leaving Gavin to watch as the man’s eyes gradually slid shut. The hunter had fallen asleep within moments and, for the first time since the confrontation with the Ender had first occurred… he seemed at peace. And perhaps something about seeing the hunter like that was somehow contagious because the longer he took in the man’s serene expression, the more Gavin’s own concerns and fears seemed to fade away into nothing more than background noise. Moments later, he found himself following the man down into blissful oblivion.

\----

It’d been a few days later when Geoff had ended up broaching a similar subject with him.

They’d been sat by the fire as Geoff held a slab of some animal Michael had managed to hunt down for them earlier, the other hunters busy with scouting out the area, checking it was safe as Geoff lightly roasted the meat. Meanwhile Gavin sat at his side, eyes vigilant and hands kept firmly on his bow, as he watched Geoff’s back so the King wouldn’t have to himself while he was busy with the food.. Because nobody could cook the meat quite like Geoff could. Ryan’s wasn’t bad, Jack’s was half decent even but… there was just something about the way the King cooked it that made it that much richer in flavor. And Gavin had tried to master the man’s secrets numerous times on their quest so far… but with _incredibly_ limited, and more than lightly toasted, success.

Needless to say, it hadn’t been long before Gavin had wound up banned from taking over chef duty within the camp and both the meat, and the grass surrounding the campfires they built, were very grateful for it.

The king had been gently teasing the meat through the flames when he’d finally broken the silence between them, “I’ve been talking with Ryan and Ray about some things and… well, they both seem to believe now that you’ve actually been telling the truth this whole goddamn other world you’re meant to have come from for months now… And back when you’d first arrived? I’d have called them dumbasses for suggesting it but… now I’m not so sure. So, out of… hypothetical curiosity I guess... what was it like? In your world?”

“Um… different I guess.”

“Friendlier by the sounds of it too seeing as you’d never fought a creeper or even a fully grown spider before you met us…”

“Nah, friendly’s a relative thing.”

“I dunno, a world without monsters would be pretty goddamn sweet.”

“There’s not a single bloody world out there without at least _some_ monsters Geoff. They don’t have to be green and scaly or… whatever the bloody Ender are, they just have to be cruel and to want to cause pain… and there’s plenty of things like that where I’m from. Worst part is, they look just like us. So they’re that much harder to spot, let alone fight...”

There was a beat of silence before Geoff moved to rest a tentative hand on Gavin’s shoulder, the meat forgotten for a moment as the King had taken a seat by the Brit’s side, “We have those monsters too. I know you know about Edgar and… thing is, Ryan wasn’t the only one who made the mistake of trusting him…” The man sighed, eyes a little wistful to the point that Gavin was pretty sure he didn’t even notice the borderline impression impression he was inadvertently doing of a goldfish in that moment because… Geoff had trusted _Edgar?_ That _definitely_ hadn’t bloody been in the books.

“...I guess you could say the two of us had a history together. He didn’t always go by Edgar and he wasn’t always… well a sadistic little fucker to put it lightly. He was a good man, a good friend, and at one point I’d have even called him brother… But that was the man he was before Edgar and nostalgia stopped me from seeing the monster that’d grown up within that man until it was almost too late to do a goddamned thing to stop him…” And now it was Gavin’s turn to reassure the man, resting his palm over where the King’s hand still tentatively rested on his unscarred shoulder, squeezing it gently in a way that he seriously bloody hoped was reassuring for the man as he waited for him to continue.

“I guess you’re right really Gavin, the monsters are everywhere, in every goddamn world, and the worst are the ones that look like we do, that we dare to believe are our friends… But in all of those worlds? There’s also a good to counter the bad, a hero to fight off the villain, a hunter to slay any monsters that lurk in the dark…” The man had smiled, using the palm on the Brit’s shoulder to gently steer his gaze, back towards the bright, to the point that they almost _glowed_ , lands of Achievement City.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned from my time as King? It’s that hope can prevail, even over impossible odds. So the best advice I can give it to hope. Hope that in every world there’s a hunter to slay every monster, hope that the heroes can prevail and, most of all, never forget that it’s you, and not them, who writes your story… You say we’re fictional characters?”

“Well yeah but I-”

“Well then, it’s about damn time them that we did our best to rewrite our story then… Sure, there’s no guarantee we’re going to make it better by doing so, in fact we’ve probably got a pretty good fucking chance of making things worse but… we still have to have hope what we’re doing will change things for the better, still have to least give it a try because… because maybe then it will.”

\----

As it turned out, the King’s words had stayed with Gavin long after they’d packed up and moved on to new territories, the group of hunters travelling ever closer to the border between Geoff’s kingdom and its more hostile neighboring lands with every step they took.

They’d stayed with him because Geoff was right, there wasn’t any bloody certainty in anything here and so there’d be no way Gavin could guarantee his success in changing the boys’ story… but there was still a chance that he _could_ , a hope of sorts that spurred him on to keep trying, keep fighting and keep believing that maybe, just maybe, he _could_ save them.

After all, more improbable things had happened in this world as a result of faith, hope and a little luck.


	6. End Of Volume One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys finally reach the border between Geoff’s kingdom and the next and Gavin receives a little reminder as to exactly what it means to be a hunter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I'm honestly blown away and forever humbled by how much support this story's received so far- thank you so much! As of the next chapter, we're moving into volume 2 (or arc 2) of this story and let me tell you now, there's some pretty exciting and intense moments to come within that arc so stay tuned for that ;) Once again, a huge thank you to all of you, I really hope you enjoy this final segment of the first story arch of the series :)

It was almost ironic how pleasant it was. Gavin could honestly say it was one of the nicest days he’d seen in the entire time he’d spent in Achievement City and yet… this was the day they were going to cross the border between Geoff’s kingdom and the hostile lands which lay beyond.

The barrier had been clearly marked out in deep red lines tracing their way through the earth that bordered the two kingdoms, the divide visible for miles around due to its dark, striking color that stood out against its duller surroundings. They had been drawn just shortly before the King’s death, specifically designed to ward any of those who possessed the ‘spark’ that all magic derived its power from, away from his lands… And it’d been that very policy which had gotten the man killed.

Because refusing the practise of magic within a kingdom made many enemies but… forbidding that inherent spark? It’d driven mere children, to whom sorcery hadn’t even been a distant thought, from his lands. It’d driven those who’d chosen to turn from the art and those who’d never realized their own potential with them. It hadn’t just been those that practiced sorcery, all potential sorcerers had been driven out or killed and… really, considering that, it was hardly surprising that the man had managed to make himself a considerable amount of enemies in the process.

In fact, the former monarch had lost his main allies in the monarchs who bordered his territories, the apparently not quite so unconditional love of his citizens and even the loyal support of the some of the councillors who’d made up his inner circle and yet… he’d still absolutely _insisted_ upon this new law to the point that no one, not even his oldest childhood friend, had been able to talk the man out of it.

And so the monarch had isolated himself from his allies, leaving his kingdom practically defenceless to outside threats, other than the barrier of redstone that bordered the kingdom… but that barrier only blocked out the sorcerers. It did nothing to hold back the sudden surge in the creeper population in the freelands just west of his kingdom’s border, nor did it hold back the skeleton archers when they’d attacked him from the east… The city had gradually fallen to ruin and Geoff’s hunters had even offered aid at one point, though only on the condition that Ryan be allowed to cross the redstone borders to assist _them_. Naturally, the King had refused their offer.

And because of that, no one in Achievement City, and certainly none of the hunters, could be certain as to how exactly the late King had met his demise. Originally, it’d been assumed that an archer or a creeper or perhaps some kind of assassin without the spark had gotten to him but… Gavin couldn’t help but have his doubts because the Ender had existed long before they’d begun their siege on Achievement City. What if they’d chosen to attack the kingdom bordering theirs first?

Tactically, he supposed it would’ve given the creatures an advantage against the hunters, providing them with ample opportunity to breach the borders of Achievement city and to drive the creatures which inhabited the late King’s lands towards Geoff’s… And the Ender certainly had shown a certain tactical intellect before in the way they’d handled the roses and their alliance with Edgar so... it definitely stood as a possibility. But if that were the case? It would mean that the Ender had always been, at least in part, fixated on these warriors in particular…

And Gavin _really_ didn’t like to linger on what the consequences of that kind of vindictive focus might be… So instead he’d chosen to focus his energies on learning more about the late King who’d once ruled the lands beyond the redstone.

Not much had ever really been said about the King himself in Burnie’s books, other than the fact that the man had been a reclusive monarch later on in life, and that he’d originally been a good and compassionate leader to his people in his early years. In fact, during the infancy of the man’s reign, his ruling style had been similar to Geoff’s own, and the two men had once even considered themselves as close allies, second only in partnership to the alliance shared between Achievement City and the kingdom of Roosterteeth… But that had been before the King had met the sorcerer who’d driven his life, reign and sanity irretrievably off the rails… A sorcerer that would ultimately come to be known as Edgar.

How the sorcerer had eventually broken the man’s mind, Gavin couldn’t quite be sure. Ryan had a few theories about the matter, none of them particularly pleasant ones, but he’d admitted they were nothing more than speculation. All those who had known the sorcerer back then were long dead now and as for the late King? Well, only Geoff was really equipped to comment on the man given that none of the other hunters had ever really particularly taken to the monarch.

He’d pulled Jack aside to ask about it at one point and, according to the man, the signs of this monarch’s instability had always been there. Geoff had simply refused to see them due to the man’s desire to see the good within the man who’d once been one of Geoff’s closest childhood friends. Jack had even admitted that he was pretty sure their king had once seen him as a brother figure of sorts, seeking the sibling relationship with him that he’d severely lacked within the Ramsey household growing up.

Gavin guessed he could understand Geoff’s reluctance given that because… well it’d be like him being told that his best friend from the other world ( _his_ world as he was having a harder and harder time reminding himself the longer he stayed here) Dan was beginning to lose his mind… he wouldn’t have wanted to believe it, would naturally jump to the man’s defence against anyone who’d made claims otherwise and even when he’d been provided with proof, it would still be a bloody sharp blow to the gut to accept that.

And since the loss of the man was one of those wounds Gavin strongly suspected had never quite healed, he’d been cautious in his attempts to broach the subject with Geoff, reluctant to bring up bad memories but, at the same time, honestly curious to know what the man had to say on the matter because if anyone had known the late King, it’d been Geoff (well, Geoff and perhaps Jack given that the man had, apparently, managed to forge a somewhat tentative bond with the monarch, for Geoff’s sake). And perhaps, because of that, he even had a few theories as to what exactly had happened within his kingdom that’d caused the King’s mind to finally _snap_...

As if turned out, he’d had two main theories on the matter.

The first was that Edgar had subjected the man to a similar enchantment to the one Ryan had been under, one that entirely stripped the man of his control as he’d waged war against a good portion of his own citizens before abandoning those who’d remained to the mercy of his newly acquired enemies. Gavin strongly suspected though that even Geoff didn’t fully believe the excuses he was making for his childhood friend, even if he’d desperately _wanted_ to.

The man’s second theory, however, was far more realistic. Because that centred around the idea that the man had simply been left in the presence of a sorcerer who was just a little _too_ powerful for a little _too_ long and had just… _snapped_ one day, ordering that all sorcerers be forced to flee from his lands or else suffer the ultimate penalty for daring to practice magic there… And in some respects, it’d worked. Whatever taunting or threats or perhaps simply the sense of threat that Edgar’s presence had provided, just by staying within the King’s lands, had been eradicated when the man had fled over the borders to Achievement City...

Though in many ways, because of that, it’d been the same King’s fault for all Ryan had been subjected to at the sorcerer’s hand afterwards because he’d been the one to drive Edgar towards the hunters…

A part of him had almost resented the fallen King for that, except that karma had been a swift bitch of a thing and while the sorcerers were continuously buffered by the barriers of redstone, the King’s other new enemies had crept beyond the man’s carefully laid defences to make the final kill.

No one ever spoke the late King’s name now. It was a practise predominantly done by those who’d respected the man since his official worldly title had been so irretrievably tainted by his own actions. The man’s birth name now struck fear into the hearts of those who’d once known him. So to those that’d loved him, or at the very least respected him enough, he’d come to be known instead as Nutt. It’d been a reference to the man’s almost legendary skill as an archer, his abilities even going so far as to rival the great Mark Nutt himself; a warrior whose bow work had been fundamental in driving the hostile creatures away from the known lands when they’d first created the settlements which had ultimately grown into Achievement City, Roosterteeth and the kingdom now simply known as the ‘Shadow Lands’.

Honestly, Gavin found it was a pretty apt name for them really. Especially given that his first glimpses of the land beyond the border, even with the sun optimistically beaming down on it, clearly displayed them as a mere ‘shadow’ of its supposed former glory. The plants that littered the border had grown warped with time and exposure to the damaged redstone, twisting together in a mess of vines and stems and thorns that seemed to embody the foreshadowing Burnie had been careful to emphasize at this stage in the books. He could also see the heavy, unshifting, and slightly ominous fog looming in the distance, a few shapes that weren’t quite human seeming to linger within it.

Suddenly Gavin found himself remembering why he’d found these lands so unnerving whenever they’d been described in the books...

At least he already knew that Ryan’s magic would be capable of clearing the fog. It was one of those rare few moments within Burnie’s final book that’d actually provided him with comfort during their quest so far, especially as he’d gotten a look at just how thick and cloying the mist seemed to settle upon its surroundings. Because chances were, had the hunters been forced to wade through it without the assistance of Ryan’s sorcery, _none_ of them would’ve ever made it to ‘The End’ in the first place…

So it was a good bloody job really, considering that, that the lines of redstone ‘Nutt’ had laid out along the borders had deteriorated with the kingdom it’d once protected, enough at least to make the spell work along the barrier defective and to allow countless sorcerers to cross over its borders, sorcerers including Ryan and… well now himself too he guessed since apparently all it took was possession of the ‘spark’ itself for a mage to have been blocked by the former enchantments that’d wardened off this kingdom.

They were far from the only ones who’d chosen to cross those lines however. Gavin knew there were endless rogue sorcerers who’d fled over the borders, seeking refuge in the one place no one would dare to search for them and that in itself added a considerable risk to the quest… especially when Gavin considered what he knew to be fact, that one of those sorcerers lingering in that fog would be Edgar himself…

He’d tried not to think about that too much of course, trusting Ryan to warn him if he sensed hostile magic nearby. Because, despite the sorcerer’s careful tutelage and Gavin’s considerable progress in his lessons with the hunter so far, he was still admittedly inferior to most mages and certainly to Ryan himself. He simply trusted the hunter to keep them safe from other potential hostile magic wielders beyond the border, a task he’d clearly risen to within the books and yet… a part of him still couldn’t help but linger over the possibility of that changing, and the accompanying fears that came with it. The last thing he wanted to do, after all, was focus so hard on defeating the Ender or Edgar that he left these men open to attacks by other sorcerers lingering amidst the fog.

So as they’d moved ever closer to the border between kingdoms, the point where Gavin could see the redstone glint when the light hit it _just_ right, he’d been just the slightest bit tense. His senses were all firing on high alert, to the point that when a sudden group of figures had emerged to their west, he’d been notching an arrow to his bow in seconds. It was almost an instinctive action at this point after all, thanks to Michael and Ray’s training, to the point that he was able to line the arrow up to its nearest target wise ease… Only to allow Michael to ease the weapons back to his side moments later when he’d realized exactly who these figures actually were.

They were Geoff’s citizens, perhaps a whole village’s worth, and all of them bearing wishes of good fortune, along with extra supplies to aid the hunters in their journey. Honestly, Gavin couldn’t understand why Burnie had left this part out of the books because there was just something strangely uplifting in the way all these people had gathered here, even bringing along their children who’d immediately flocked to Michael like he was some sort of pied piper.

He’d watched Michael settle down so he was at the same height as the kids, talking them through one of his latest adventures as they’d listened in with awe… He’d found a rare, genuine grin coming to his lips in response at the sight. And his smile only grown wider as he’d seen the rest of the hunters move to interact with the citizens gathered there because to see those surprised yet cautiously hopeful smiles on his boys faces? Well it was more than enough to give Gavin the boost he’d so desperately needed as he stood this close to the border and to dangers that were still largely unknown.

He’d been utterly content to sit back and watch his boys interact with the citizens… but apparently Michael had other ideas because moments later there’d been a gaggle of kids tugging at the bottom of his armor as one of them had worked up the courage to ask him if what the ‘mighty Mogar’ had told them was really true and that he really had slayed a creeper all by himself.

Gavin hadn’t quite been able to resist telling a different story, especially with all those wide innocent eyes staring up at him.

He’d told them instead the tale of a young boy left alone in the woods, all by himself until a pair of creepers had found him. Cue a collective horrified gasp that’d had Michael levelling him with an amused grin, even as Jack had turned to offer him a slightly bemused one. Despite the men’s reactions though, he’d continued his story, telling the kids about how these creepers hadn’t been like the other ones. They’d been born without their explosive genes and so they’d become friendly creepers who’d wanted a kid all of their own.

After that he’d gone on to weave a story about being raised by creepers, claiming that his armor had originally been to help in blend in within their natural creeper-y environment. He was pretty sure he’d heard a few of the parents chuckle at that description, and could definitely see that both Michael and Ray were struggling to hold in their mirth at this stage, Ryan only slightly more composed with the amused smirk that now graced his features. And Geoff had bloody lost it once he’d taken in the wide eyed expressions of the kids who were obviously hanging off his every word.

He’d eventually wrapped up the story with an explanation of how he’d managed to transfer over from his creeper way of life. He’d even gone so far as to tease the kids that sometimes, when he got angry or scared, he’d hiss just like a creeper and that maybe one day he’d explode too. There’d been a few scattered giggles at that and lots of wide grins as he’d finished with a jokey ‘boom’, most of them returning to cluster around Mogar after that. One of the older ones had lingered though, settling himself at Gavin’s side as he’d continued to ask him about the hunters and the adventures he’d had with them so far.

In the end he’d probably spent a good half hour sat telling the kid tales of daring adventures. It’d actually reached the point where Geoff and Jack had finished gathering supplies, as well as thanking those who’d been kind enough to provide them. In contrast, Ryan and Ray had dedicated most of their time to ensuring the citizens that remained behind knew how to properly defend and fortify themselves here on the border of such dangerous territory. And all as Michael had continued to entertain, and to a certain extent distract he guessed, the kids, their parents in the meanwhile engaging in the more serious conversation topics.

Eventually though, Geoff had given them the heads up to move out, Gavin turning to offer the kid a cheery wave and a promise to continue their chat when they came back… Only, as he was turning to leave, he felt a slight tug on his sleeve and then suddenly the kid had latched onto his leg and was hugging him. For a long moment, Gavin wasn’t really sure what to do, looking to Michael for some sort of advice of how to deal with the situation since the redhead actually seemed to be _good_ at this kind of stuff… but instead of some kind of guidance, he’d simply been met with the man’s amused and slightly smug grin as he’d watched the Brit awkwardly stand there with the kid’s arms wrapped around his legs.

So he’d dealt with the situation in the only way he really knew how, hugging him back, and clearly it’d been the right thing to do given the way that some of the rigid tension in the boy’s shoulders seemed to ease a little as he’d pulled back.  
“Please stay safe Mr Creeper Man.”

It was in that moment that Gavin had finally registered it, the blood red cross on the boy’s clothes, the crest of a family renowned for their prowess both in healing and in battle. He realized that this kid must be of House Denacour, perhaps he was even the man’s younger brother that’d been briefly referenced in the books. The point was, he was a Denacour and so clearly he’d been at this point before, waving goodbye to Caleb, fully believing that he’d see the man again…

He guessed this time the kid wasn’t willing to take those chances.

“What’s your name?”

“Jordan… of House Denacour. Momma says we should always state our houses when we meet new people.” So definitely Caleb’s brother then. He’d felt something clench painfully in his gut as he’d met the boy’s gaze, seeing the fear combined with an almost visceral sort of pain reflected in the kid’s gaze… far too much pain for any child his age to have to bear.

“Well Jordan. I, Gavin of the Freelands, promise I’ll stay safe.”

“But what if you don’t keep it?”

“I-”

“Caleb didn’t keep his promise. He said he’d come back, he promised he would and then he-”

“He tried to Jordan, he really did-”

“But he didn’t!”

“Jordan… Caleb may have broken his promise, but the reason he couldn’t keep it was he was only a hunter. But when a creeper hunter makes a promise? They _always_ keep it.”

“Always?”

“Mmhmm, we can’t break them. Not ever.”

“Why not?”

“Because if we do… we’ll explode!” The boy had smiled a little at that, despite himself.

“So you’ll really keep your promise Mr Creeper Man?”

“You have my word, Jordan of House Denacour.” And just like that the kid was hugging him again, murmuring a quiet thank you into the Brit’s hair as Gavin had knelt down to properly return the hug this time, “I just need you to do one thing for me in return okay?” The boy nodded eagerly, eyes wide and attentive as he waited with bated breath for the hunter’s next words, “I want you to take this,” And with that he tore one of the few blank pages off the back of Burnie’s manuscript, handing it over to the kid as he continued, “And every time you feel scared or like you or your family or anyone else in your village are in danger, I want you to write about you and them being safe and protected on here. Because if you do that, I can promise you always will be until we return.”

The boy took the page almost reverently from the Brit after that, eyeing it was an awed sort of fascination as he asked in a hushed tone, “Is the paper magic?”

“Something like that.” He offered back with a light smile, his grin only widening as the kid had offered him another quick hug, promising to put the ‘magic paper’ to good use before running off to show off the parchment to the other kids who were with the group. He’d watched them for a moment, something light and warm making itself known within his gut as he was suddenly reminded why exactly it was that the Achievement Hunters did what they did, why they’d always done it… to keep people like this; good, compassionate people, safe, alive, happy.

Geoff had said many times in the series that it was a cause he’d be perfectly willing to give his life for and suddenly Gavin found himself understanding why, better than he ever had before when he’d read these books. Because people like this, who were willing to risk their own lives to come this close to the border, just to offer the hunters support and nourishment, to wish them well upon their way, these people deserved above all things to be protected. And he knew now, if it came down to it, that it wouldn’t just be the hunters he was travelling with that he’d be willing to give his life for.

But Gavin Free didn’t intend to sacrifice himself for them, even though they were more than worthy of such a sacrifice… because they were also worthy of more than that. Because the people on the outskirts of Achievement City had been the ones who’d suffered the hardest. From crop failure, from familial loss and from everything else the Ender could throw at them without entirely wiping them out. These were the people who’d lost the most, had practically lost everything and the last bloody thing Gavin wanted was to give them someone else to mourn.

From the very start of this quest he’d been prepared to die for his boys. But here, faced with these good and honest people and the vow he’d made to Jordan, Gavin was suddenly determined to strive for more than that; to aspire to _live_...

\----

It’d been midday on what had to be the most deceivingly beautiful day of Gavin’s life when Geoff had finally given the order for the hunters to move out. All of the men had been quick to gather their weapons, graciously accepting any final supplies the villagers were kind enough to offer in the process. After that, they’d moved out, Gavin turning to offer one last smile to the little Denacour before they’d all lined up along the border, preparing to take the plunge into the unknown together.

Perhaps Geoff had looked a little pale and drawn, perhaps Ray was shivering a little through his armor from the sudden cold that Gavin could suddenly feel dancing its way across his body, perhaps they were all a little reluctant to take that first step…

But they were the bloody Achievement Hunters dammit and even if they _were_ a little afraid, a little reluctant, they were still more than prepared to do what they’d set out to do. To defeat the Ender and rewrite their story. He honestly wasn’t sure if the feeling was misplaced or not but he could help but feel a sudden rush of optimism about this quest, especially as Michael lightly teased him that had the ‘Creeper Man’ would wind up just as infamous as Mogar at this rate, gesturing back to the group of kids that all seemed to be staring at Gavin’s scales with something bordering on awe. Gavin found he really didn’t mind becoming infamous for something like that.

There’d been a moment as Ryan had let of a cautious spell flare, illuminating the faint misty air a little for them as they’d taken one last look at Achievement City, at Ramsey tower’s enormity still just about visible in the distance, at the people gathered, at the Denacours and then ahead, at the kingdom that lay beyond.

Moments later, Gavin Free took his first step into the shadow lands.

 


	7. A Twist In The Tale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s the start of arc 2 and a new chapter dawns in Gavin’s journey. But now he faces a darker realm with greater risks, some of which he might not even have accounted for before he embarked upon this quest…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are, boldly venturing into arc 2! This is definitely an arc that 'hits the ground running' so expect a lot of twists, crisis and adventure- I really hope you'll all enjoy it as much as the first arch! Also a HUGE thank you to everyone who read, kudosed or commented on this story. I'm constantly blown away by how much support and love this series has received and can never thank all of you enough for it so THANK YOU! :)

Gavin would be the first to admit that it actually sounded kind of dumb when he put it into words but… in a strange way it felt as if crossing the border between Achievement City and the Shadowlands had almost been like crossing over into a new chapter of his story, of _their_ story. Maybe it was just the lingering memory of the how the story arcs had played out within Burnie’s original works, the way each chapter had progressed, each section had been divided but… the longer Gavin had spent with the hunters, the more he’d found that those sections had started to merge a little in his memory, or fade away completely because really it’d been a long time since he’d been able to view this world as fiction, or the men at his side as simple characters in a story.

All the same, it still felt like crossing that barrier had set Gavin on a new path of sorts. Maybe it was the residual optimism Geoff’s speech about rewriting their story had sparked to life within his chest, or perhaps it was simply the sudden change in scenery from the bright and fairly optimistic to the admittedly kind of bleak, but things were definitely different now and… honestly? Gavin was having a hard time figuring out whether or not that was a good or a bad thing.

Because on the one hand, Gavin felt far more prepared to face the challenges this quest would bring than he had before. When he’d first arrived in Achievement City he’d been excited, inexperienced and so far from the hunter he needed to be in order to help these men but… now he’d seen creepers and the Ender with his own eyes, had begun to practise and to train as a warrior under Ray and Michael’s skilled tutelage and even hone his ‘spark’ under Ryan’s patient hand. He was the ‘Creeper man’, an actual fully fledged hunter in the eyes of at least some of Geoff’s people, and for the first time since he’d set out on this quest with them, he honestly had begun to feel like perhaps he’d begun to earn his place at their side.

But on the other hand, things were obviously darker in these lands. From the skies themselves that seemed to be somehow dimmed by the shroud of dark magic that clung to air like a heavy, and slightly menacing, fog to the waters that Gavin hadn’t quite trusted to drink until Ryan had taught him a spell to filter it through until it turned the more comforting, familiar clear color of the rivers that flowed through Achievement City. It was obvious, anywhere you looked, that this was a once great Kingdom that’d decayed over years of neglect and dark presences, to the extent that none of the other surrounding Kingdoms had bothered to intervene because really, what had there been left to save other than the rubble of this once great land.

Because even in it’s worn down state, you could still see that these lands had once been beautiful. Jack had spoken to him about it once, about how there’d been huge structures that towered over its citizens, almost as great as Ramsey tower itself, and how the palace walls had shone like a bright beacon over its lands. Apparently Geoff had spent a lot of time here as a kid, running through the palace gardens alongside the future King whose fear of sorcery had broken both this kingdom and the man himself who’d ruled them.

And sometimes, you could tell just by looking at Geoff’s face when they passed through one of those areas he’d played in as a child, just by the way the man’s lips would curve in a sad sort of reminiscence of the man he’d once known and called one of his closest friends. Had there not been so much resting on their safe passage through these lands, and the lingering, residual, niggling fear that reminded him that both Jack and Ryan had fallen to their untimely demises within these lands in the original ‘narrative’, Gavin would probably have suggested they visit the late King’s grave, just to see Geoff gain some kind of closure on his lost friend but… honestly, he wasn’t sure that even _that_ would fully help the man recover.

Because whenever he met their King’s gaze in these lands, he could quite help but notice that burning desire, however hopeless, for him to somehow turn back the clock and rewrite this man’s story the way he and Gavin were attempting to rewrite theirs… Gavin would have to be a bloody hypocrite to claim he didn’t relate to _that_.

But there was nothing he could do, not to fix this, and so he’d simply settled for offering whatever silent reassurance he could that the rest of him were still here and that the late King of these lands would be the last loss Geoff would have to suffer if Gavin had anything to bloody say about it… It seemed to help a little.

It wasn’t just Geoff who seemed to be particularly on edge in these lands though. Ryan had been jumpy ever since they’d crossed over the border, a jumpiness that the rest of the group, Gavin could tell, didn’t quite understand but… all the same, he found he could relate to. Because the dark magic that lingered over this kingdom was practically tangible, to the extent that it seemed to cling to every bone in his body, every inch of his skin, leaving him ever so slightly on edge at all times because something about it just… rubbed him the wrong way.

Because the magic actually _felt_ tainted, forced and so bloody wrong that it sometimes made Gavin’s head spin. And he knew Ryan had started casting extra wards around their makeshift camps to prevent that magic from seeping in, allowing him and Gavin to actually get a decent night’s sleep, even if it took a little extra out of Ryan in the process to maintain them and… honestly he was torn between gratitude and concern over that. Because it was a more than bloody welcome change to escape from the lingering tendrils of this darker magic, if only for a few hours each night. But at the same time, it wasn’t worth having the sorcerer burn himself out in the process, even though the man maintained that he was absolutely _‘fine_ ’. Gavin didn’t need to be a genius to know the man was lying through his teeth.

And he couldn’t have been the only one that’d noticed given the way Michael had been shooting the sorcerer worried glances from pretty much the moment they’d crossed over the border between Achievement City and the Shadowlands. He’d even forced the man to give up his turns on keeping watch because Michael had ‘more than enough fucking energy’ to cover the both of them and Ryan looked ‘dead on his fucking feet’. He’d also threatened, sorcerer or not, to kick the man’s ass and drag him back to his tent himself if Ryan tried to sneak out and perform his section of the watch anyway.

Eventually, Ryan had relented, because as stubborn as the sorcerer could be, Michael was far more so and once the redhead had his mind set on something, there was absolutely no swaying him on it. That was why he _still_ bloody subjected Gavin to sword training, even knowing he was absolutely bloody hopeless because he maintained that one day, Gavin might just managed to improve if they were persistent enough.

At the very least, it gave him something to distract himself with whenever Geoff or Ryan or Ray went to scout out their surroundings before they’d set up a new camp, just to ensure that they’d be relatively safe for the night (because with the ever present threat of mobs, rogue sorcerers and even the Ender lingering over them, there was no such bloody thing as taking too many precautions).

And it was something that Gavin especially found reassuring given that ever since they’d wandered past the first of the ruins this side of the border, he hadn’t quite been able to shake the sense that something, or perhaps someone, was watching him. He could feel their eyes on the back of his neck, cold and calculating, gaze unwavering and… to be honest? It was really starting to bloody creep him out.

He hadn’t said anything to the others though. Not with Geoff, and to a lesser extent Jack, obviously mourning the fallen King and Ryan overworking himself already with counter enchantments and Michael taking twice as many shifts and Ray… well he was still pretty sure the man hadn’t a hundred percent recovered from his close encounter with those roses and the Ender, especially given that he was always the first to volunteer when they needed someone to scout out a new campsite, clearly needing to see that the area was safe, or at least relatively so, with his own eyes before he’d be able to believe it. He didn’t want to burden them with some suspicion that may well just be his own brain playing bloody tricks on him.

All the same, he could never quite shake the feeling, not even at night when Ryan had put those extra barriers up and the unease the dark magic caused faded away. If anything, it just made Gavin _more_ bloody aware of it, of the possibility that someone might be watching them, and him in particular, and how he wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that because… what if this was someone who’d figured out why Gavin was really here travelling alongside the hunters and was already forming contingency plans to account for that…

Perhaps he was reading too much into things. It was probably just that these lands gave him the creeps.

Because they really were more like something out of a horror novel rather that the action-adventure series that ‘Achievement Hunters’ had originally been billed as. It’d been what had shocked Gavin so much about the way events had played out within that last novel, the sudden shift in tone more than a little jarring to the Brit after countless pages of heroism and true nobility, the type that didn’t come from blood, but having honor. Because suddenly these brave, heroic characters had been thrown into this dark, cold, wasteland that’d just felt so… strangely out of sort with what the series had been about.

Gavin supposed that should’ve been a hint to him, even back then, that this realm was more than just the setting for a popular series of fictional books.

Because life didn’t fit itself into genres and themes like fiction did. The same person’s story could be comedic, tragic, a coming of age novel and a wishy washy romance flick all in one because life was messy and complicated and didn’t live within the confines that a work of fiction did. It was what made Gavin more and more certain that this realm had never truly been a work of fiction, but something else entirely… though, what that ‘something else’ was? He still had _no bloody idea_.

With all of the issues the hunters were currently facing though, Gavin found he didn’t really have as much time to linger over that question anymore. Not when he had Ryan and Michael overworking themselves and Geoff and Jack’s grief and the fact that Ray had been gone for much bloody longer than usual when he’d left to scout out the new area to worry about.

Usually it took the man about a half hour at the most and, while obviously Gavin couldn’t be a hundred percent certain of how much time had passed since he’d left, given the fact that this world didn’t exactly come with convenient ways to tell the time like watches, clocks or spells that performed the same sort of functions, he knew it had to have been at least an hour. Even the others were starting to worry, if Michael’s pacing and the worried frown curving Jack’s lips were anything to go by and as the night began to roll in, Gavin bloody knew he couldn’t just sit here and do nothing about it.

And so he’d waited until the others were distracted with something, grabbing his bow and quiver from where they rested beside the campfire and slipping out of the camp in search of Ray, hoping that he’d be able to get the others to forgive him for sneaking off like that later when he returned to camp later with Ray at his side. With any luck, they’d be too relieved to see the other hunter to be too angry at Gavin. Besides, he could tell that Michael and Ryan had both been about another ten minutes away from doing something similar because really, if there was one hunter you could rely upon to always arrive back when he said he would, it was Ray.

The hunter was just reliable like that. It was the main reason Geoff had allowed the man to take on so many of the scouting expeditions in the first place, even though they’d originally intended to split the duties equally between the other hunters. Because Ray would get the job done as quickly and efficiently as possible, and would always come back.

Or so they’d thought because here Gavin was, wading his way through the tangled undergrowth and trying not to grimace as thorns caught the sides of his boots. They were made from a material that was far from invulnerable like the creeper armor often seemed to be and he could tell that he feet were probably fairly cut up and bleeding by the time he actually managed to reach the nearest clearing, but he knew he’d be able to clean the cuts once he got back to camp and the lack of an icy cold breeze told him the greatest risk he faced from those thorns was a little inconvenience at best. The Ender hadn’t touched them and really, Gavin had experienced far worse than a few scratches just from messing about with his friend Dan as kids so he could definitely grit his teeth, bear these and deal with them later when he knew Ray was safe.

It was shortly after he’d stumbled into the clearing that the putrid smell of dead creeper hit his lungs, a slight grimace coming to Gavin’s features as he’d cautiously edged his way around the fallen beast, just in case it’s explosive defence mechanism just so happened to still be active. He’d heard countless horror stories from Michael at this point about how ‘good warriors’ had lost arms, legs and other limbs to these things long after their bodies were cold in the ground and… based on the smirk that’d been curving the redhead’s lips at the time, that frustratingly attractive one that’d made Gavin almost trip over his own feet a couple of times when it was directed at him (much to the other hunter’s amusement), he’d probably just been messing with him but all the same, Gavin definitely wasn’t about to take any bloody chances.

Not in lands as hostile as these.

He’d just about managed to edge his way around the monster’s scaly hide when he’d caught just the slightest glint of metal in the distance, just shiny enough to be Ray’s armor, and he could feel the tension in his shoulder relax a little at the sight of it. Obviously the man was fine. He’d just been held up by this creeper here and was probably just checking to make sure there weren’t any others of its kind lingering in the surrounding areas.

All the same, Gavin found himself hurrying over to join the other warrior, knowing full well from Geoff’s constant reminders, combined with the seemingly endless foreshadowing written into Burnie’s novels, that these lands were dangerous, especially when you travelled through them alone, and as much as Gavin had progressed in his abilities with both bow and the ‘spark’ that Ryan was continuously helping him build and hone, he was still far from the skilled and seasoned warrior that Ray was. He knew he’d be a lot safer at the man’s side and that Geoff would, maybe, be a little less likely to yell at him for wandering off if they returned together.

He knew something was wrong the moment the temperature suddenly seemed to drop around him, gradually growing colder, the wind’s icy tendrils slipping beneath even his creeper armor as he moved towards where Ray stood and Gavin could feel the lump in his throat forming, a heavy weight that held back his speech because… the last time he’d felt this, Ray had almost died and the man really had been gone from the camp for far too long and…

Suddenly he was bolting towards Ray, arrow nocked to his bow in an almost instinctive action as he warily skimmed their surroundings, searching for signs of a skeletal, black, menacing presence that would indicate the Ender, or perhaps simply some hostile looking sorcerers lurking amidst the tangled stems and roots of the fields surrounding them… but nothing emerged from the shadows. In fact, there didn’t seem to be a single sign of life save the fallen creeper, himself and Ray anywhere to be seen and that bitter icy cold just continued to seep further and further into his bones, to the point where he could feel himself shudder with every breath and yet…

Ray, based on what he could see from the corner of his eyes, seemed completely unaffected by the cold, even though by rights he should be even colder than Gavin given that his chosen armor wasn’t quite as thick as creeper scales were and, unlike Michael, he didn’t have a bearskin cover to compensate for that lack of heat.

He was paler than usual though, that much Gavin could still make out even as his eyes remained fixed on the slightest rustle of the undergrowth that may have simply been stirred up by winds, but Gavin definitely wasn’t going to take any chances when the winds were this icy and they were in unknown, dangerous territory and Ray’s skin was already so pale that it looked like a strong enough gust of wind might be able to knock the man off his feet and…

Eventually concern overran the need to be cautious as he finally turned to face Ray, sliding his arrow back into the quiver at his back and hoping that if they were about to be attacked, his ‘spark’ would be enough to cover their backs if necessary… and then he got a good look at the man in front of him and all thoughts of fighting fled his mind entirely.

He was whiter than a sheet, so much so that it almost hurt to look, eyes unnervingly distant and stance laxer than the man would ever have allowed with his years of training since it left him open to attack on all fronts but… it wasn’t any of that which truly held Gavin’s gaze. No, what made his heart sink and the need to fight flee him entirely was the sight of one dark red rose pinned to the man’s chainmail, the faintest traces of dark magic surrounding where one of its thorns pierced it right through to the man’s heart.

His knees seemed to give way after that, Gavin sinking to the ground as the weight of the realization that he’d failed the man in front of him, had failed to save him the way he’d promised himself, and the other hunters, he would. Saving him from that first field of roses hadn’t bloody stopped anything. Because here Ray was, pale skinned, pierced to the heart with the Ender’s poison and lips curved into an unnatural smile that almost seemed to bloody _mock_ him, to taunt him.

“I’m sorry,” The words sounded hoarse, shaky but Gavin hardly cared at this point, “I’m so bloody sorry Ray,” His eyes fell shut as he braced himself against the agony tearing through his chest, “I should’ve gone with you, shouldn’t have let you go alone. Such a bloody idiot.” He wondered if the others would ever be able to look him in the eyes again after this, if they’d ever trust him the way they had before. He wondered if he’d even want them to. Clearly all his presence in this tale was actually good for was false hope so what was even the bloody point of him.

An unnatural scream that he was only about fifty percent sure had fallen from his own lips suddenly echoed across the clearing, likely a beacon to all monsters and rogue sorcerers in the near vicinity but Gavin couldn’t find the will within him to actually bloody care as he forced his eyes back open, turning to Ray only to realize that the man had moved closer, his expression shifting into a wider smirk and… wasn’t it bloody odd that he was still standing, still capable of movement and expressions and…

Gavin tentatively reached out his hand to make contact with Ray’s arm, only to pull back moments later with a surprised squeak as it just bloody passed through the man, like he wasn’t even bloody there at all and… what?

Did that mean he’d bloody lost it? Quite possibly. Maybe a side effect of the grief he was experiencing or… maybe he’d never even been there at all; just a waking nightmare of Gavin’s stirred to life by this bloody weird realm they were travelling through. He couldn’t help but hope for the latter, though he didn’t dare allow that hope to really take root because… well, losing Ray once was bad enough. He wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to survive losing the man a second time.

Another more insistent rustle to his left and suddenly Gavin was alert again, the possibility that Ray might still be alive inspiring him into action because if the man _was_ still out there, that meant what Gavin actually did _could_ make a difference… and if that was the case? They still needed him and he definitely wasn’t about to bloody let them down, not in the way he’d thought he had.

He forced himself back onto his feet, nocking the arrow back to his bow as he once again skimmed his surroundings… And then suddenly there was a rushing sensation near the back of his head, followed by a loud clashing of steel against steel that the Brit was quick to duck away from, re aiming the bow at the supposed figment of his imagination that currently seemed to be holding his own against the Ray he remembered leaving the camp a few hours ago, the man’s skin a more comfortingly healthy color and chainmail reassuringly roseless, save the insignia it wore.

It took a good few moments for Gavin to actually snap out of his shock long enough to actually aim his arrow at the ghostly Ray, hands still a little shaky as he’d loosed the arrow, only to have the figure disappear into the icy cold air around it before the arrow could meet its mark, the weapon instead imbedding itself in the tree behind it as both of the remaining hunters caught their breath.

“What the hell was that?”

“Honestly? I have no bloody idea.”

\----

They’d both left the clearing pretty fast after that, the residual chill still clinging to Gavin’s bones a little, though he was pretty sure that was more the residual shock of seeing Ray, or whatever it was that’d been impersonating the hunter, like that. Pale and drawn and so much worse than even his very worst nightmares could’ve prepared him for…

Because for a one, bleak moment, it’d been all too real. _Ray’s death_ had been all too real and… in a way it still felt real, even with the living, breathing hunter at his side, sword drawn and eyes fixed on their surroundings just as much as Gavin’s should be… because he _should_ be more focused than this, especially in hostile territories such as these, especially with the ever present risk of whatever that _thing_ had been coming back for them since neither he nor Ray could be certain that it was actually gone, not when they had no idea what it actually was or how to fight it.

It hadn’t been in the books after all. _None_ of this had been in the bloody books and Gavin had never been more lost or confused than he was right now… And the chill in his bones must’ve been shock because he was barely even bloody registering his surroundings anymore, not even faintly, to the extent that Ray eventually had to sheath his sword, just to guide the Brit back to their chosen campsite.

And whatever it was Geoff had been ready to yell at him when he’d gotten back to camp, it’d died in the man’s throat the moment he’d caught sight of him. After that it’d been soft words and gentle guiding hands towards the campfire as the man moved to dish out some of the food he’d made the other hunters.

He faintly registered the sounds of hushed whispers to his right, Ray, Jack and Ryan if he was hearing them correctly, though his mind still wasn’t quite up to registering words for some reason, not when the unbearable silence of the first Ray he’d stumbled across still rang in his ears, louder than any other sound.

It’d been Michael slinging a comforting arm over his shoulder that’d eventually startled the Brit out of whatever shock induced state he’d fallen into, the man shooting Gavin a sympathetic grin as he offered the food Geoff had cooked for him along with something empathetic statement about how rogue sorcerers were ‘fucking dicks’ and… he’d been startled by the man’s comment for a moment, surprised he hadn’t chosen to comment at all on the fact he’d seen a phantom version of their fellow hunter but then he’d caught Ray’s eye, caught the look in it and had understood.

The others didn’t need to know what they’d seen, didn’t need an extra thing to worry about. Not when they already faced enough threats every day as it was. For all they knew, whatever the hell that thing had been was gone now and the last thing they needed to do was add something that might not even exist anymore to any of the other’s list of concerns, especially not to Ryan’s since the man had been more than a little twitchy since their encounter with the Ender.

And so he’d found himself offering Ray a slight nod, turning to Michael with a shaky smile of agreement and gladly allowing the man to distract him with more tales of the hunter’s exploits before Gavin had joined them. Sure, he’d heard most of them before, but the redhead had his own way with words that made him feel as if he were hearing each tale anew and right now that was what Gavin needed, a story, a distraction, a way to forget, if only for a little while.

Later though when he’d been alone in his tent, he’d found himself lingering over that phantom figure, to the point where he’d ended up digging out the old manuscript that he’d barely even glanced at in a long time, save for when he’d torn off that sheet for Jordan Denacour. He just hoped the kid was having a better time rewriting his story than Gavin was rewriting his.

He’d flipped through countless pages, idly skimming the margins of notes Burnie had left himself in the faint hope that they might somehow illuminate what the hell had actually happened here. He knew it was probably a fairly futile hope of his but… honestly, he was still a little bit in shock, even after the hours Michael had spent patiently coaxing him back into something vaguely resembling his usual self, and more than a little desperate.

It’d been the angry red of the words that’d caught his eye at first, the size of them and the fact that they were underlined _multiple times_ … and once Gavin had read through them, he’d begun to understand why.

_‘When rewriting a passage it is of VITAL IMPORTANCE that you NOTE DOWN WHERE YOU’VE MADE THOSE CHANGES!’_

_‘If you don’t NOTE DOWN YOUR CHANGES plot threads will be left unresolved which can lead to CONFUSING or PROBLEMATIC SITUATIONS later on in the novel.”_

_‘NOTES. THEY ARE YOUR FRIEND. USE THEM.’_

_‘Note to self: USE THE DAMN NOTES’_

_‘NOTES!!!!’_

There were countless other similar messages scrawled untidily in red pen across the pages, each of them underlined, circled and some of them even bolded for emphasis… and Gavin was almost _certain_ they hadn’t been there before so… did that mean these notes were directed at him?

But what had he forgotten to note down that was important enough to get Burnie this fired up? He’d noted down when he’d arrived, when he’d joined the hunters and what skills he’d learned he had and trained in since then… and he _had_ noted down the part where they’d saved Ray’s life, hadn’t he?

A few seconds, and frantic flicking back through the pages to the point where they’d run into those goddamn roses proved otherwise.

He’d had to rummage through his bag for a few long moments before he’d finally managed to retrieve his pen, frantically scribbling out a quick note about how they’d saved Ray because a death, at this stage in the novel especially, seemed premature, cruel and didn’t fit at all with the bloody tone the rest of the series had set because _kids_ had read these books and… Okay, maybe Gavin was venting here a little, but in his defence he’d just caught a painfully vivid glimpse of what could have been if he’d never come here and, needless to say, he had a few axes to grind with this original plot point.

And clearly Burnie had too given the lengths he’d gone to in the manuscript to get Gavin to scribble down these hurried notes; notes that already had that lingering uneasy chill that’d clung to Gavin’s bones after his ‘encounter’ finally fading away into a more comforting, natural warmth. He obviously wanted Gavin to change these men’s fate as much as he wanted to change them himself, perhaps even more.

Which left one recurring question turning in the Brit’s mind, long after he’d finally managed to drift off into the first nightmareless sleep he’d had since that first encounter they’d had with the Ender… If Burnie cared so much about changing the ending of the hunter’s story, why hadn’t he rewritten it himself?


	8. The Second Crisis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dead creepers, broken magic and a shelter forged from stone… yeah, life definitely used to be a lot easier for Gavin Free when plot twists weren’t a regular part of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I'm so incredibly sorry for the wait there was for this chapter. I've been having some issues with infection and writer's block recently but have thankfully managed to battle my way through both to post this new chapter. Secondly, I'd like to offer another huge thank you to all of you for continuing to be so incredibly supportive of this fic. It genuinely does mean the world :)

It definitely used to be a lot easier to appreciate a good plot twist, Gavin decided, back when he wasn’t the one who was subject to its whims.

No doubt, had he still been the reader in this scenario, he’d find himself hooked, frantically sifting and skimming through page after page to reach more of these tense moments with their sharp twists and unexpected resolutions… But living through those events was different. Living through them found him praying to a God he’d never quite decided whether to believe in or not (and one that he was pretty bloody sure didn’t exist in this world anyway, whatever else did or didn’t happen to exist here) to _drag out_ the spaces in between conflicts, and to keep him and his fellow hunters safe for as long as possible, perhaps even beyond that.

Because facing off against Ender, Creepers and that one echo of a could’ve been future had taught him the value, perhaps even long for, those companionable almost silences between battles. Little moments, like the time they’d spend eating around the campfire, the group relaxing a little, and actually allowing themselves to enjoy each other’s company. They were few and far between these days, especially with him and Ray both still tense for reasons they’d continued to keep to themselves, Geoff in mourning and Ryan obviously concerned about some secret observation of his own.

Michael and Jack had definitely become the more steadying presences within the group. The latter seemed to be devoting most of his time to keeping Geoff’s mind in the right place as they passed through territories the King was so obviously familiar with and just barely preventing himself from painfully reminiscing about. And it seemed to be working, to a degree at least. As for Michael, he’d become somewhat of a stand-in driving force within the group. Keeping them moving, focused, alert.

And as soon as they’d managed to establish a semi-permanent base of operations, long enough for Jack and Ryan to leave and gather more of the necessary supplies they’d need in order to pass through the rest of these territories safely, he’d been sure to fully restart Gavin’s sword training, complete with targets, semi-encouraging, semi-insulting pep talks and so many bloody bruises that he often felt more bruise than Gavin afterwards.

He was almost starting to believe the legends that’d claimed the ‘mighty Mogar’ to be something more than a man because surely no man, however great a fighter they may be, should be capable of bruising through protective, and bloody _enchanted_ , armor like that… then again, this was the man who’d grown up fighting them so if anyone could punch a creeper in the chest and leave _it_ injured afterwards, it’d be him.

Despite the light injuries, and often whining, that often followed those sessions though, they’d worked wonders at clearing the question of Burnie, the notes and internal crises about the meaning of existence from his mind. Plus, he finally seemed to be improving. Not enough that he thought Michael, or any of the others for that matter, would actually be willing to let him wield a blade of his own anytime soon but… it was still something. And as they moved ever closer to the tear between realms? Something seemed like a pretty bloody huge improvement in Gavin’s books.

Perhaps if it’d just been what inevitable horrors lay beyond that tear that lay beyond that tear that he had to worry about, Michael’s extra training might even have been enough to ease the tension from his shoulders a little but… the fact still remained that Jack’s ‘death’ had to be rapidly approaching now, with Ryan’s in quick succession after that, and still he had not even the slightest hope of predicting how, or when… or even if he’d be able to step in the way he had last time.

After all, he’d struggled then hadn’t he? He had the memory of being silenced and frozen in place, an angry red line across his left shoulder, which still twinged a little when he leant on funny or for a little too long, and an even greater sense of paranoia when it came to roses than he’d had after the original series of events had played themselves out in ‘fiction’. He’d saved Ray, but only just, and his own bloody oversight with the notes afterwards had almost undone it all just a handful of days after they’d crossed over the border.

What was to say that this time he wouldn’t be quite so lucky? That he wouldn’t be too late? Or too ignorant of some vitally important detail to note it down?

Apparently not Burnie at the very least. He’d been relatively silent since the incident with ghost Ray (as he’d come to call him in his head; not the notes, never the notes, since the last bloody thing he wanted was that somehow willing whatever he was back into existence somehow). Not for lack of trying on Gavin’s part, but suddenly the man was just as unreachable as he’d always seemed before then, the only real responses being little signs that he’d acknowledged hastily added scrawls, and the altered narrative that’d taken shape on those pages as a result.

If Gavin wasn’t so busy trying to vehemently deny anything that questioned his current reality or situation, he’d probably have been more than a little pissed at the man as a result… As it was, there may have been a certain few words that a certain redheaded warrior he now travelled with might’ve approved of; words that were now bolded, underlined and circled in angry strokes of the pen he carried, one that he was only just belatedly noting seemed, miraculously, to still have ink despite all of his frenzied scribbles across the pages it came with.

The surprise of that was hardly something he’d lingered on for too long though. After all, a pen with some sort of everlasting ink was hardly the strangest or most unsettling occurrence he’d been forced to deal with, was it? And at least venting to a seemingly absent author gave him something to do _other_ than question those other unsettling occurrences…

But even with that and, the relentless training sessions under the ever watchful eyes of ‘the stuff of legends’ to keep him occupied, Gavin still found his mind often wandering unbidden to the thoughts and doubts he so desperately tried to repress.

Usually at night, where their camp would fall mostly silent, sleep claiming the majority of his fellow hunters, taking the distractions they provided with them and leaving Gavin with little but the stars shrouded in inky black, a manuscript with very little blank space left between the margins and the ominous dark that seemed to engulf them whenever night fell to keep him company… well, them and Ryan.

Because if there was one person in their group who had a harder time relaxing than even him, it was the sorcerer. Gavin honestly couldn’t remember the last time the man hadn’t taken the night shift to watch over the camp by this point, the man constantly waving off counter offers for the duty with a smile that never even remotely touched his eyes… which wasn’t exactly unusual within their group these days but, all the same, something about the way it didn’t couldn’t help but unnerve him a little more than the others’ non-smiles had.

He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, even with the relative insight that the otherwise practically bloody useless manuscript provided, but something about the silent tension that’d been gradually building in the sorcerer’s shoulders, ever since they’d encountered those bloody roses, had Gavin even more on edge than usual. Because even with the events that were supposedly yet to unfold, involving Ryan and a certain key figure from the man’s past, this level of awareness felt somehow... out of place. Because hadn’t one of the reasons he’d originally hated this section of the novel so much been the way that he and the others had remained utterly _oblivious_ to what was coming for them?

Not that Ryan being more aware of their surroundings was entirely a _bad_ thing. It meant, after all, that the man would be on his guard, perhaps even be on the lookout for certain rogue sorcerers with axes to grind but… the fact that he was more of _anything_ than he’d originally been meant a deviation from the text. A deviation that, good or bad, Gavin himself hadn’t planned... And deviations like that, especially this soon, resulted in changes that, even with Burnie’s manuscript, bow and arrows and the inherent ‘spark’ Ryan was still helping him discover, he might not ever be fully prepared to combat…

Just another few thoughts to add to the seething mass of denial that seemed to occupy a decent sized chunk of his brain these days.

At least Ryan seemed a little more relaxed than usual that night as he kept watch… though Gavin suspected that had a lot more to do with the extra glints of not quite light he could see glittering in the dark as a few more protective enchantments began to settle around the camp and take hold.

There were almost enough in place now that they effectively replaced the mostly absent stars, shimmering bursts of power illuminating the earth around them in a subtle glow. It was oddly soothing really, the sight of those tendrils of enchantment tying together as Ryan wove them into complex patterns that Gavin couldn’t even _hope_ to understand, his awestruck gaze observing with nothing short of fascination as the light shimmering was suddenly struck to life into a faint, misty sheen that fell around the camp, concealing them from their surroundings enough that, at the very least, the rogue sorcerers with limited abilities wouldn’t find them.

It might not protect them from Edgar, the Ender or any other, more malicious, predators that were probably lurking in the darkness but… at least it was something. And if living in this world had taught Gavin anything at all, it was to fully value and appreciate the small victories in this quest.

He waited in silence until Ryan finally came to a pause in his work, the man turning back towards the campfire where Gavin had lingered with the manuscript after the others had retired to their tents, his frustrated venting just so happening to coincide with the time Ryan had decided to reinforce their barriers, “Still awake?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“You know that usually implies that you at least made an attempt at sleeping.”

“Pot and kettle Ry.”

“...What’s a kettle?” Gavin considered explaining it for a moment, quickly racking his brains for how exactly to explain the device to someone of this realm, before ultimately deciding that it’d probably just end in even more confusion on Ryan’s part. After all, kettles were powered by electricity and he definitely didn’t know nearly enough about that to be qualified to explain it in a situation like this.

“It’s just a saying from where I grew up.”

“In the other world?” He nodded, shifting over a little on the log he was perched on to allow Ryan to join him by the fire, “I suppose it’s no stranger than the saying we have about buckets of lava and…” The sorcerer cut himself off them, clearly catching the bewildered look on Gavin’s face if the sudden, quiet but amused, laughter that escaped the man’s lips was anything to go by.

“You put lava in buckets?”

“Where else would we put it?”

“Doesn’t it melt?”

“The bucket?”

“And the ground. And the person holding the bucket…” Ryan’s lips twisted into a slight smirk, a flick of his hand conjuring a small spark that danced its way through the air for a moment before fizzling out into the night sky.

“Funnily enough, we take precautions to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“But why would you want a bloody bucket of lava in the first place?” Another amused laugh escaped the man’s lips.

“Curiosity mostly, some studies into how it works and exists with the world around it… plus I think there’ve been a couple of incidents where scorned lovers tipped them over former partner’s properties…” His expression must’ve shown his concern at those words because the sorcerer was quick to add, “...while their partners were _away_ from their homes. And we managed to get the resulting fires under control pretty quickly after that. No dead or wounded, save perhaps a few overinflated egos...”

Gavin couldn’t help but muse that there was probably a story behind those words if he pried a little further but… if it was a bad memory, the last thing he wanted to do was bring it up and take away the sudden light, almost playful, mood that’d seemed to settle in around the campfire… and if the memory ended with the need to lava a house? It probably wasn’t exactly the best one the sorcerer possessed.

“So basically hell hath no fury like a bucket of lava from a partner scorned.”

“Hell?”

“Kind of like the Nether in our world.”

“Ahh… Yeah, I’d say that’s a fairly apt description.” They fell into a companionable silence for a little while after that, Ryan giving an occasional flick of the wrist to stoke the embers back to life whenever they seemed to fade a little, while Gavin’s eyes idly skimmed across the sky, squinting a little in his attempts to make out the few stars that hadn’t quite been encased in the otherwise unyielding darkness in this realm, taking comfort in what limited light still managed to gleam down at him, before his attention shifted back to the man at his side who’d, at some point between then and the last time they’d spoken, shifted back into a tenser stance.

“You okay Rye-bread?” He offered tentatively into the crisp night air as he watched one of the sparks from the fire dance a little under the sorcerer’s idle commands, both ember and manipulator freezing in place for a moment in response, before a slightly bemused expression began to cross the sorcerer’s face.

“...Rye-bread?”

“It’s a healthy kind of bread with seeds and stuff…”

“I’m a healthy kind of bread with seeds and stuff?” A hint of the amused smirk from earlier was back again, though perhaps a little weaker than last time, almost… uncertain, and for reasons Gavin knew had nothing to do with seeded carbohydrates.

“It’s meant to be nickname you pleb, now stop bloody avoiding the question.”

“I’m fine.” Gavin quirked an eyebrow at that, a wry smile tugging on the sorcerer’s lips in response. “...All things considered I am. I’ve just never been particularly fond of the Shadowlands.” Gavin couldn’t exactly blame him for that. Not with the dreary sort of nothingness that seemed to cling to their surroundings, combined with the weakened barriers that still occasionally gave the slightest of twists and tugs at something within his gut, the message of those enchantments still abundantly clear, even if the impact of them had since been overcome. _Leave. Your kind is not welcome here._

And even if you ignored those elements, there were still the mobs to avoid, the rogue sorcerers to contend with, and the ever present sense that there was just something deeply… _off_ about these lands. What it was that was off about them? He still had no bloody idea. But the not knowing had only allowed that unease to fester, to grow and… Well, clearly he hadn’t been the only one affected by it if the extra wards woven into the night sky were anything to go by…

“I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that these lands _feel_ a little different to Achievement City. Unhinged, unbalanced… _broken._ ” Another flick of the wrist and suddenly the image of a man danced within the embers, “Those who possess the spark tend to be a little more receptive to these shifts in power. After all, the power is a part of them and manipulating that power is how enchantments are cast in the first place, but all the same, it takes a considerable amount of training to sense the usually subtle shifts in power that occur in the kingdoms north of the border… Here of course, things are more noticeable.” The image of the man suddenly began to waver a little, not quite as in focus as before and a little unsteady.

“The reason for that is fairly simple. One of the first things a sorcerer learns is that every enchantment they cast must maintain a balance of sorts in order for it to fully take shape as planned…” A device that almost seemed to resemble a set of scales briefly flickered to life beside the man as if to illustrate Ryan’s point, only to vanish moments later into the embers as the man continued, “...It’s usually believed that we draw half of that balance from the earth around us, and the other from the ‘Nether realm’ beyond but, honestly? No one knows for certain where either power comes from. Many of us have theories on the matter but… all that’s truly known is that within each sorcerer’s spark there lays a potential to both create and destroy…”

The man once again flickered into focus in the flames, in a little more detail this time so that Gavin could just about make out the features that identified this figure as an imitation of Gavin himself, “A balanced sorcerer manages to tread the line between the two potentials, never swaying too far from the path and maintaining full control over their powers as a result… but when a sorcerer strays from that line? What’s left is a spark of power that can only ever collapse in upon itself, causing nothing but chaos.” The figure seemed to quiver for a moment, it’s form flickering out of existence entirely before suddenly surging into the air in a rush of heat and white sparks, “It’s why so many of those within the bordering realms to Geoff’s still despise sorcery and all those who wield it. Unbalanced wielders can only ever hope to destroy, and indiscriminately so. A lot of good people fell at the hands of untrained sorcerers during the initial wars to defend this territory. It’s one of the reasons the late King banished them all in the end…”

He seemed to note Gavin’s surprise at that, pausing for a moment in his explanation to add, “There were other reasons too of course, but the point remains that balance was and _is_ vital to both enchantments and their wielders… Unfortunately, desperation has long since driven the people of this realm to forget that lesson.” With a final wave of his hand the man, sparks and even the fire itself faded away, leaving little other than the embers to fizzle a little in the sudden darkness, “All things considered, I don’t exactly blame them for that, but it does leave us considerably more at risk while passing through their territories.”

“Hence the extra wards?” A slight nod as Ryan sent another spiral of sparks towards the logs in front of them, coaxing the embers back to a healthy blaze, “Did you ever… almost lose _your_ balance?”

A slightly stutter in the flames and then, “Once, when I made the mistake of listening to a sorcerer who was already unhinged…”

“Edgar.” Sharp eyes shot up to stare at Gavin for a moment, the sorcerers shoulders more than a little tense than before as his gaze trailed his body in an assessing way that would’ve probably, under any other circumstances, left him feeling a little hot under the collar…

“I suppose it makes sense that you’d know about him. I just hope the fact that you do doesn’t mean what I think it does...” He held up a hand, shaking his head just a fraction as Gavin moved to cut in, “...Sorry, I shouldn’t say these things it’s just… difficult I suppose, not to be curious as to how this all ends. Though sometimes I suspect even you don’t have those answers anymore.” He offered Gavin a slightly wry smile, standing up from his position and moving back over to the edge of the campsite, “You should probably go and get some rest. Michael was talking about scouting out those trees to the west and he strongly implied he was dragging you along with him... Haven’t seen him this determined to teach someone how to hold a sword since he first met Kdin.”

The name vaguely registered as familiar in Gavin’s head. One of the more likable councillors within King Geoffrey’s courts, and arguably an ‘honorary Achievement Hunter’ within his own right given how hard he worked at seeing they were properly represented there. It’d been at the stage where it’d seemed as if the skeleton archer mobs were to invade Achievement City itself that Michael had insisted upon training the man and, while the novels hadn’t looked too closely into those interactions, he could just about recall references made to the failed attempts to train him. Well he supposed that was a comfort at least, to know that he wasn’t the first pupil that the ‘mighty Mogar’ had found to be a challenge to train...

It took a few moments after that for Gavin to withdraw from those thoughts, just in time to catch sight of another burst of light weaving itself into the night sky, spiralling up from where it’s caster stood, back at his post, eyes seemingly focussed on something beyond the camp that Gavin couldn’t quite see… but could almost _feel_ in the way that Ryan had described before. Something _unbalanced_ lurking just beyond the cluster of trees that Michael had supposedly set his sights on…

Suddenly getting a little rest before their expedition tomorrow didn’t sound like such a bad idea after all.

\----

“You know, in a weird way, this place kinda reminds me of where I grew up.” Gavin blinked a little in surprise at that, turning to face the redhead at his side as his mind latched onto a welcome distraction from the paranoid ‘feelings’ it’d been forcibly shoving behind a wall of denial in his mind all morning.

“It does? How?”

“The scorch marks mostly.” He paused, gesturing to a nearby tree that bore just the faintest hints of black against the lower parts of the bark, “Used to see a hell of lot of that growing up, hell sometimes you’d just find a fucking stump and ashes were the tree used to be. Creepers tend to leave their mark on a place like that, especially when there’s a mob. Guess we’ve just been lucky so far that we’ve managed to miss it.” Something about the doubt that briefly flickered through the redhead’s gaze seemed to say otherwise though…

“Should we have run into them by now?”

“Probably. Maybe. Honestly? No fucking clue. Seeing as it’s my first time crossing this border, I’m probably not the best to ask since I couldn’t be more goddamn oblivious to whatever’s lurking out here if I fucking tried.”

“...Why do I get the feeling there’s a but here?”

“Because despite my first impressions of you, you’re not a total fucking idiot.” Gavin smiled a little at that, the two of them falling into a companionable silence for a moment before Michael continued, “The _but_ is that even then, we should’ve run into something by now. I mean you and Ray had that one run in with those rogue sorcerers but, as far as monsters go? We haven’t seen a single live one this side of the barrier, just a fuckload of dead creepers, and there’s not even fucking arrows hitting Ryan’s barriers anymore.”

“Maybe we’ve just been lucky so far.”

“Yeah, maybe… or maybe something even fucking worse chased them away.” They fell into silence for a moment, both of them clearly trying to ignore the consequences of Michael’s words if he turned out to be right, “We might be fine it’s just… I just fucking hate living life by the mights and maybes.”

Gavin nodded a little, forcing his gaze away from the scorch marks against the tree the redhead had pointed out earlier, as the pair continued to wander through the cluster that wasn’t quite large enough to be a forest. In fact it seemed a little _too_ well kept, in Gavin’s mind, to be anything that’d naturally form on its own. Its layout was just a little too precise, in the way the trees seemed to organize themselves into two equal sectors, an almost pathway forming itself between the two. Plus it seemed a little _too_ well kept in the sense that, unlike the foliage around them, they didn’t seem warped or bent or broken.

He could almost picture these trees as being a part of Achievement City better than he could in their actual surroundings, and wondered idly if perhaps this was a case similar to that of the Shadowlands King’s grave, and the spells of preservation that seemed to have woven themselves into the lands immediately surrounding it. Perhaps, to whoever it was responsible for the late King’s preservation, these trees were just as important. It was only when Michael had voiced his own theories that he’d begun to realize why.

“You know what? This actually reminds me more of the orchards Geoff used to talk about.”

“The orchards?”

The redhead nodded, gesturing above his head to the fruit Gavin had somehow missed hanging from the branches, “Don’t know if he’s mentioned this or not, but he actually spent a lot of time growing up here. Used to be friends with the Shadow King and some other kid… I think he might’ve been a prince too? Or maybe just some member of this guy’s court but, they spent a lot of time here, before everything grew fucked up between them. It’s probably best we don’t tell Geoff we found this place, he’s having a hard enough time travelling through these parts as it is.” Gavin nodded, not really needing to be reminded of how tough this part of the journey had been on the King so far given that it was pretty damn hard for anyone with eyes to miss just how deeply he’d fallen into mourning since they’d crossed that barrier.

He quickly shook those thoughts away, knowing Jack was doing all he could to console the man and that it was probably best the rest of them didn’t interfere as he did. Instead he chose to focus in a little more on his surroundings, or namely upon the slight glint of silver he caught just out of the corner of his eye, a glint that, when inspected closer, he found to be a single arrow embedded into the trunk of the tree, one bearing an emblem that almost seemed familiar…

He took care not to damage the weapon as he eased it out of the bark, already making a mental note to ask Jack about it later since he was the one Geoff usually involved in diplomatic measures with foreign kingdoms and… well, he didn’t exactly want to bother Geoff himself right now, all things considered.

“Gav? If you’re fucking done admiring the scenery I could use a little help here.”

A half smile came to Gavin’s lips as he turned to find himself face to face with the sight of Michael, arms overflowing with apples and obviously struggling to keep them balanced. He grabbed the bag at the redhead’s feet, carefully helping him ease the fruit into it before tying the handles at the top, “You think that’ll be enough?”

“I think that’s as many as we’re gonna fit in there so it’ll damn well _have_ to be.”

“We could always come back for more.”

“We could, but that means lingering here even longer than we already have and I don’t know about you? But I’d like to get out of these lands as soon as fucking possible. That should be enough anyway, provided that Jack doesn’t borrow any for…” The sound of Michael’s voice suddenly seemed to cut out around him as a sudden whisper of power burst across the orchard, almost strong enough in its intensity to send him reeling and…

“Gavin?” He blinked, finally registering the concerned looking warrior who’d obviously knelt down next to him at some point, firm hands gripping his shoulders just shy of a little _too_ tightly as he managed to ground Gavin in his surroundings once more,  “You okay? You were kind of out of it there for a second...”

“I’m fine.” That’d sounded unconvincing, even to his own ears, “Maybe we should head back to camp. Don’t want to worry anyone if we’re gone too long, right?” Michael seemed to frown a little a this but nodded, helping him back up to his feet with a comment about how it’d have been fucking useless to attempt any training while Gavin was like this anyway.

All the same, it was a tense walk back through the orchards, the feeling that’d overwhelmed Gavin’s senses before never quite fading from the back of his mind… and after his conversation with Ryan last night? The fact was _anything_ but reassuring.

\----

Gavin was pretty sure his heart might’ve given out for a moment when he’d arrived back at camp, only to catch sight of a form of shelter that most determinedly _wasn’t_ a tent…

_Too late_.

He could almost feel the confused concern radiating over from the hunter at his side and yet somehow it failed to fully register amidst the sudden white hot fear scorching its way through his system, his legs blindly bolting towards the camp, as if running fast enough would somehow, impossibly, turn back time. After all, stranger things had happened than that in this world, hadn’t they?

And yet… that shift of power he’d felt in the orchards had felt definitive, permanent, or at the very least powerful enough that, regardless, he had no hope of undoing whatever had been done here...

_Too bloody late._

He should’ve known better than to leave the camp with Michael today, should’ve bloody realized the conversation he’d had with Ryan last night was probably some kind of foreshadowing for the events that were about to take place, should never have taken the risk of leaving Jack alone when he’d _known_ it was him that the Ender were coming for next.

_And all your fault..._

It wasn’t until he’d gotten a lot closer to the camp that he’d actually noticed one particularly crucial contrast between what his mind had already begun to envision and the shelter he could see before him… it was still standing. More than that, it appeared solid. Sturdy even. Reliable, like Jack’s craftsmanship always had been before the Ender had chosen to undo it.

Gavin stood there for a few moments, almost waiting for the horrible, biting cold that he’d come to associate with the Ender, to catch up with the churning sensation already writhing about within his gut and yet… nothing. Not even a whisper of cold, nor of enemy activity. In fact, if it wasn’t for the fact that he could hear faint voices drifting through the stone entrance, he’d have almost been convinced it’d been left untouched… Which probably would’ve sparked a whole new cause for concern so he was more than a little grateful that he could.

All the same, the thought of having Jack, Ray, Ryan _and_ Geoff all potentially gathered in a soon to be unstable structure wasn’t exactly doing a lot better for his nerves right now…

The uneasy feeling hit him the moment he stepped inside the archway, something undeniably unpleasant squirming under his skin for a few moments before it settled, allowing Gavin to get a better look at the shelter, it’s sturdy build and the obvious protective enchantments that seemed to be woven into the very foundations themselves… had he not felt what he had upon entering, he’d almost be tempted to settle into this illusion of safety that the shelter seemed to give off and yet… in many respects, it didn’t seem to be an illusion at all.

After all, the enchantments decorating the shelter themselves were stable, that was obvious but the ever so faint warmth that seemed to emanate from them, and their caster himself seemed just a fraction more relaxed than the last time he’d seen him. Surely he’d be just as tense as Gavin felt if there was truly a cause for alarm here…

He’d probably just been imagining things in the clearing, he decided, after all Ryan had told him it took years to fully sense shifts in magic, unless they happened to be particularly extreme and destructive. Perhaps he was simply picturing the worst because of that… or perhaps what he’d sensed had happened elsewhere and it was simply coincidence that Jack had just so happened to build a shelter for them at the same time.

Honestly, he could pretty much write off the ‘feeling’ he’d had earlier as little more than a fluke and move on... it was the presence of the _shelter_ that he was finding harder to explain away.

A hand on his shoulder belatedly reminded Gavin that he wasn’t alone and that he’d probably worried Michael more than a little with the stunt he’d pulled before by taking off without him like that. Especially after what’d happened earlier… He turned, offering the redhead a shaky but apologetic smile, and following his lead moments later as Michael took a few steps into the shelter.

\----

He still wasn’t entirely sure _how_ he’d done it, but he’d somehow managed to coax Ryan into finally getting some rest in the new shelter Jack had built, the presence of something sturdier that the thin and flimsy material of their tents apparently enough to allow the sorcerer to relax a little, permitting Gavin to take his usual watch instead.

Because however sturdy that shelter might have proven to be, there was no bloody way Gavin felt safe sleeping in it. At least if he was awake when it caved in, there was a chance of him being able to warn his fellow hunters, maybe even get them all out in one piece, though the longer the time that passed without incident, the more Gavin begun to suspect that he might not need to.

He knew that should reassure him, that the knowledge that these men would live to see another day should set him mind at ease but, in all honesty, it did the exact opposite. Because if this shelter didn’t fall, that meant that the hunter’s story had officially gone off book and been rewritten in a way that Gavin hadn’t been responsible for. And given the slightly bewildered note left by Burnie in the margins of this page of the manuscript, he hadn’t been responsible for it either… which meant that someone else was capable of rewriting this story too.

A sudden snap of a twig had Gavin’s head shooting up to meet the spot where he was pretty sure he’d seen Ryan looking before, just about catching sight of the figure that stood there, staring him in a way that almost seemed to be _assessing_ … but then he gave into the urge to blink and the figure was gone, leaving him to his unanswered questions about how this other writer might be, and the sneaking suspicions that he was probably a lot better off not knowing that answer.

\----

As it turned out, he’d been right to suspect that the immediate danger had passed in terms of Jack’s shelter surviving the night. Not only had it remained standing, but it’d provided the other hunters with what’d apparently been the best sleep any of them had gotten in weeks. The dark circles that’d lingered finally seemed to be fading and even Geoff seemed in better spirits when he’d emerged that morning, telling Gavin to go catch a few hours while the rest of them began to pack away the tents still laid out across the clearing, ready to move on.

It was something at least, a small comfort that Gavin found himself latching onto amidst the chaos and uncertainty of his other musings, and apparently enough to eventually help him fall into a slightly uneasy sleep for a few hours until Jack came over to wake him.

He’d gradually stirred, a little blearily at first, trying not to let the alarm show on his features when he registered the shelter just a few inches to his left, his conscious mind taking a few more moments to catch up with the situation and fill in the blanks. Obviously Jack had noticed something in his expression though, given the man’s first words were, “Didn’t they have any stone shelters in your world?”

“What?”

“You keep looking at the one I made like it’s going to bite you.” There was obvious humor in the man’s tone, but also just the slightest hint of concern as he added, “You’d probably have slept a little better if you’d put it to use too.”

Even as sleep deprived as he was, Gavin was still just about aware enough to realize it’d be a little rude to outright condemn the shelter in front of its creator, instead choosing to go ahead with a, “It’s not so much the shelter… it’s this place.”

Jack nodded at that, a look of understanding seeming to cross the man’s features as he offered a hand to help him up, “I know what you mean, couldn’t quite escape the feeling that something was watching me when I built that shelter… Plus there was a moment when I put in that last stone. Kind of weird to describe really but, it almost felt like a shadow passing over my grave. Must just be the paranoia of staying in a place like this too long.” The man offered with an easy smile, heading back to go and grab his own supplies and turning away just in time to miss how pale Gavin suddenly was as he watched him go, practically dropping his other supplies in the frenzied rush to record exactly why Jack’s death would seem unmotivated and out of place at this stage in the Achievement Hunter’s tale. If anyone else happened to notice his panicked actions, they said nothing…

But that didn’t mean that no one had noticed them.


	9. In Which Backstory Is Developed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every story has a beginning…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As an extra apology for making you all wait so long, today's a double update day. Hope you enjoy!

Authors often claim that one of the fundamental ingredients within a story is where it begins. Beginnings are important after all, and not always even in terms of what makes it onto the novel’s first page. Because the best stories usually start long before pen is put to paper, a wealth of character development and world building whirring through the author’s mind as they scramble to find an eye-catching opener that’ll draw the reader in. And yes, those first words _are_ important, vitally so...  but what remains even more key to a tale’s success, to its ability to rise to critical acclaim, or fade into dusty and forgotten obscurity, is what sets its events in motion.

Often it’ll be a noticeable shift in a character’s circumstance. A tragic past, losing a friend, parent, loved one… one of heartache, pain. Perhaps they fall in love, or out of love, or both. Often an opening is forged by destiny, a fated encounter, a quest...

Most of the time though, what sets a story in motion is something a lot smaller, simpler, mundane.

\----

When Gavin Free was five years old, he’d wanted to be a superhero. When he’d turned six he’d decided that dragons were definitely cooler that heroes. Both could fly but dragons had fire and scales and just looked ‘tippity toppers’! By the time he was seven, he’d decided maybe he could be both… because both could fly, and were cool and… a dragon with a cape just meant that the dragon hero was twice as cool, didn’t it? Dan had seemed to agree when he’d mentioned it.

It wasn’t until he’d turned eight that his career aspirations had begun to shift. Because it was at age eight that his parents had brought home a new book for story time, a book by a small time author, but one with a personal recommendation from Dan’s mother when they’d gone to her for advice. A book simply titled ‘The Achievement Hunters’.

Gavin had complained about the new book at first, preferring to hear the tales he was familiar with, the ones without all the big fancy words he couldn’t quite understand, but then he’d been introduced to Prince Geoff, future King of Achievement City and from there on out, he’d been hooked.

The transition from one to the other had been a shock to both parents at first, Gavin taking to the fictional heir almost as if he were real. They’d even considered perhaps interspersing the story with some of Gavin’s other books, in the hopes perhaps of easing their son away from what seemed to be a rapidly building obsession… but Gavin had been persistent about hearing the Prince’s story, growing dejected whenever they’d pull out the Hungry Caterpillar or any of the other books that’d once been his favorite and… well, neither of their hearts had been made of stone.

Besides, there were good messages in that book. About acceptance, looking out for others, working as a team. On top of that, it’d gotten Gavin past the ‘icky girls’ stage long before his peers, with strong future leaders such as Griffon, and later warriors like ‘Lady Lindsay’ as the plot had developed. Most of all though, what had kept the three of them reading about the Achievement Hunters, for a good few uninterrupted months in succession, was the wide eyed looked of awe that’d seemed to spark to life in Gavin’s eyes whenever they did.

Something just seemed to come to life in their son whenever they picked up that book, or the one which had followed shortly after that; Achievement Hunters: Warrior of Ashes. They’d be incredibly reluctant, if you asked, to describe it as some sort of magic but yet, at the same time… it seemed hard to explain it in any other way. There was just something _special_ about the way Gavin connected with that series.

And it’d been a connection that’d long outlasted the story times they’d shared, the novels following him through the years that followed. Years of scraped knees, and boring teachers, and parents who just ‘didn’t understand’... But also years of watching as the Hunters took on more and more quests, years of reading as they defended Geoff’s kingdom from all kinds of monsters, years of chasing Dan around the garden with a cardboard sword as Mogar, flailing it wildly over his head while his friend made hissing noises.

It’d also been a connection that’d arguably surpassed what most of the other kids, or teachers for that matter, had considered healthy. Because how many boys at age twelve still had five imaginary friends that he often chose to go on ‘quests’ with… often instead of going to class.

There’d been a few calls to parents, words about bad behavior, bad focus, distracting the other children and… eventually Gavin’s parents had been forced to set aside the magic glint in their son’s eyes and tell him a truth they’d never actually though they’d have to tell him, a truth that their son had never quite wanted to hear… the Achievement Hunters weren’t real.

The fallout had been worse than the father Christmas-gate of two years prior, worse than any of his falling outs with Dan at school, worse than anything they’d ever seen because the moment those words, and the weight of them, had hit… he’d just seemed to shut down on them. And a little of that jubilant, carefree joy their son had always seemed to carry in his wake had tapered off and faded away that day.

He’d recovered of course, time heals all wounds as the saying goes, and had come to accept the reality of his circumstances, the way any kid in his shoes would. He’d never stopped reading though, not once, nor stopped taking joy in the Hunter’s quests. No longer believing they were real hadn’t sucked out the excitement, nor the ‘magic’, that’d lingered after those first few reads, it’d simply sparked to life a different kind of spell. Of escapism, of a wonder beyond the mundane circumstances of his own life. And Gavin had continued to be drawn to those books, perhaps even more so, by that prospect.

Because growing up had been hard, life even more so.

He’d lost his father just after his eighteenth birthday, his mother following just a few months later, and suddenly Gavin had been alone and scared in a world full of monsters far more menacing than the threat of creepers or skeleton archers from the novels he’d come to love so dearly. And he’d clung to them, clung almost as tightly as had to his friendship with Dan, to carry him through those following, desolate months.

He’d found comfort in some of the quotes scattered throughout the novels, quotes about bravery, persistence, strength in hardship, perseverance… None of those words were for him, he knew, not like Dan’s cautious and often awkward attempts at consolation had been, but somehow they’d still always been exactly what he’d needed to hear.

He’d emerged out the other side of the tunnel, finally able to breathe again, and knowing that it was as much thanks to a group of fictional warriors as Dan, his very real best friend.

And less than a year after that when he’d lost him to the army, it’d once again been those warriors that’d carried him through the separation… He’d always thought it sounded stupidly mushy whenever he’d actually attempted to put it into words but the truth was, that one series of books, and the warriors whose stories lay within it, just seemed to have a way of making sure that even when Gavin was at his most lonely, he never truly felt alone.

He hadn’t been the only one who’d felt that way either. As a child he’d been somewhat ridiculed for his love of those books but growing up had led him to other passionate fans of the series. He’d been one of several Mogars at a con he’d attended, the group of them comparing swords and complaining a little about how hard it was to try and imitate a sword literally forged from diamond. There’d also been Rays, Jacks, Ryans, Geoffs, Kerrys , Calebs… the best cosplay he’d seen by far though had been one that a woman had put together of Lady Lindsay in her battle gear.

The cosplayer in question, an enthusiastic redhead named Meg, had ended up posing for several pictures with Gavin, and afterwards the two of them had wound up discussing in length their theories for the upcoming novels in the series. It’d been hinted that the novels were drawing to a close, with just two more expected for release, and both of them seemed in one mind about exactly where the new big bad would come from now that ‘Edgar’ finally seemed to have dropped off the radar.

After all, the books had seemed to skirt around the mysterious ‘Shadowlands’ bordering Achievement City, and the darkness that’d crept over those lands, for several books now and both couldn’t help but feel that it had to mean _something_ didn’t it?

They’d also discussed headcanon for creepers and skeleton archers, and Meg had even let him swing her custom made, and probably functional, sword around for a bit before she’d returned it to one of the many sheaths on her belt. By the end of the con, they’d exchanged details, agreeing to meet for coffee some time to further discuss their theories, and just like that Gavin had found his first friend that _truly_ seemed to understand his connection with the Hunters, because she’d felt it too.

He’d also met other fans at the con, and Meg’s details hadn’t been the only ones he’d left with, just the only ones that’d come to matter since most of the others had dropped off the radar after a little while, or forgotten who he was, or lost interest in the series after the painful revelations of the second to last book… and then there’d been that one ill-fated attempt at dating one of them that he really _really_ didn’t like to think about too often given how well _that_ had ultimately turned out.

Meg, however, had stuck around, rapidly becoming one of Gavin’s closest friends to the point where he’d wound up acting as one of the groomsmen at her wedding, despite the fact that he didn’t actually believe in the practise. She’d also become his go-to person for advice whenever he couldn’t get hold of Dan, his friend coaxing him through bad break ups and even worse work days with artsy and pretentious film directors. They curl up on the couch together, often with ice cream, always with pizza, and would talk.

And often the topic would stray to a world they both deemed so much better than their own, to the world of the Achievement Hunters, and Gavin would often find himself smiling again in response, safe in the company of one of his closest friends, relaxed in the presence of their ‘binge supplies’ and strangely comforted by the mentioned of the fictional warriors that still, even after all these years, had this way of making him feel as if they were watching over him.

Warriors, Heroes, Achievement Hunters. A beacon of color and light amidst in the dull shades of reality. A symbol of courage, bravery… hope. The one childhood dream he’d never quite managed to stop believing in.

\----

This tale began with a story, as strange and paradoxical as that seems. A story filled with struggle and bravery, friendship and loss. A story that allowed for this tale to be borne… and to grow into something more. Something better.

And ‘The Achievement Hunters’ wasn’t that story. Nor was any book that it’s author penned, but something lesser known. A seemingly mundane series of events, especially when compared to the lives of Hunters and warriors, and yet oh so very important. For _this_ tale began not with a novel written by a struggling small time author, nor a noble quest against a seemingly unstoppable foe... but with story time, cardboard swords and the life a series grew within the mind of Gavin Free.


	10. A Dash Of Foreshadowing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of all the twists Gavin imagined would be in this tale, he’d never quite have predicted this…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I'm sorry this update took so long. I sincerely hope it was worth the wait! And secondly, thank you as always for being the most incredibly supportive readers ever, you guys are amazing and constantly make my days so much brighter :) Enjoy!

The worst thing about unbalanced magic was that once it’d been pointed out to him, it was damn near bloody impossible to ignore.

Gavin’s skin had practically been  _crawling_ with unease from the moment they’d set foot beyond the settlement where Jack’s stone shelter still stood strong, a firm and unwavering reminder of the authorship of this tale that seemed to be rapidly spiralling out of Gavin’s control. He could still just about make the structure out in the distance, an obvious contrast against the bleak pallor of its surroundings, still looming in a way that seemed to taunt him as they continued along their journey towards The End.

He knew, by rights, he should be relieved. There’d been a fair few chapters of mourning in the original tale, between Jack’s demise and Ryan’s own. He had time, more than he’d had since this quest began, to figure out precisely what his next move would be… but then again, did he? Did any of them have a time that Gavin could actually still predict?

Ray was alive, Jack was alive, the tower was still standing… and while none of those outcomes were exactly  _negative_ , the implications they left behind them had him constantly on edge as he constantly poured over his manuscript for something he might’ve missed. Something that might explain this in any other way than his suspicions seemed to suggest.

Even Burnie was scared.

He could tell as much from the notes that filled practically  _all_  of the margins now, constantly changing, telling him to take heed of the ‘signs’ around him, warning him to watch his back and theirs… clearly Burnie knew something Gavin didn’t, though what he wouldn’t say, even when Gavin directly called him out on it in his own notes.

Gavin wondered if something was stopping him… or if him telling Gavin what was coming would force this story down a path that neither of them wanted it to travel… or perhaps if it was too late either way. If somehow he’d already set the wheel of the story in motion so definitively that nothing he did would be able to pull it back, to take back any of the words he’d written, or the choices he’d made.

At least Ryan was sleeping better now.

He wasn’t sure if it was talking things out with Gavin, or just the simple fact that Geoff seemed to be coping a little better now as they continued to move through the Shadowlands, but a lot of the tension seemed to have bled from Ryan’s shoulders over the past few days. The circles that’d stood out so prominently against his features were practically gone now, and it was obvious to anyone who took notice that the sorcerer was far more content within himself than he’d been in perhaps  _months_ now.

Since the incident with Ray and the roses.

And yet that knowledge, combined with Geoff’s improvement and the strange lift in morale that seemed to be sweeping through the group in general did little to reassure Gavin. No, if anything it made him even more wary whenever they continued their journey across the territory, or settled down at some new base of operations. Because in the process they’d begun to let their guard down.

It’d been little things at first, Michael scouting out areas a lot less frequently, Geoff looking a little less distressed, only to then progress to the areas they travelled through barely being scouted out all together, the enchantments guarding the camp dwindling to the point that Gavin hardly saw the comforting sparks crucial to guarding their safety anymore. At night they were practically sleeping targets and yet all of them rested so much easier than before. All of them except Gavin.

It was like they could sense something he couldn’t, some nuance in the air that told them it was safe but… as far as Gavin was concerned, the air was only growing thicker, cloying, clinging to his lungs in a way that never sat quite right.

And so he forced himself to remain awake and alert, on the nights while the hunters slept, eyes peeled and skimming the warped foliage for any sign of the source of that warped power that seemed to chase after him, intelligent and suffocating… and a little too aware of itself for Gavin’s own comfort. It didn’t even feel unbalanced at this point, but  _sick_ , empty. A practical opposite to the comforting warmth Gavin had always felt when he wielded his own power and it honestly  _terrified_ him to think that a part of that warmth was this sickness, that  _he_ could become this warped.

Ryan had once before after all, and Gavin’s command of his own abilities were  _nothing_  in comparison to his.

\----

“Hey Gav?” Gavin wasn’t proud to say he almost fell off the rock he was perched on in response to the unexpected voice, spinning a little where he sat to come face to face with Ray, “You okay? You’re not looking so great.”

“Way to spare my feelings Ray,” He offered in a half-hearted attempt at humor that neither of them quite believed. It was hard after all to lie to someone you’d slept next to for months now, who’d seen you wake up wordless and shaking from nightmares and knew a little more than most about the consequences of getting this story wrong considering the close encounter they’d had before. Ray probably knew him best out of any of the hunters… and it showed in the way he saw things that in the past only Dan or Meg would, “It’s just, haven’t been sleeping that well.”

“Yeah I know. You’ve been taking pretty much every night shift there is lately, plus your aim’s gone to shit.”

“I… wait what do you mean?”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you missed that target twice yesterday before you actually managed a hit. Look, none of us exactly sleep easy. We’ve all seen enough that our dreams aren’t exactly pleasant, but if that starts to affect you in battle … well that’s how we lost Caleb.”

Gavin froze, his counter argument getting caught up somewhere in his throat as Ray continued, “Well it was a factor anyway. None of us will ever know for certain but he kept… getting these dreams beforehand. Weird dreams, like he  _knew_ something was coming before the Ender had even begun their attack on our borders and… well I guess it’s not exactly a surprise it kept him up at night huh?”

“He knew?” That sure as hell hadn’t been in the bloody books.

“Maybe, possibly, I… he told me he kept having these dreams about these creatures, creatures nothing like any he’d ever seen before, huge, blacker than night, and colder than the harshest day of winter… yeah, Caleb could get a bit poetic about this stuff sometimes but the point is, sound familiar?”

“A little too much yeah.”

“He knew they were coming, tried to warn us actually but we had other threats to deal with at the time… I think he knew more than he said though.”

“What makes you say that?”

“He never liked the fact that I wore roses after he started having those dreams.” A sharp intake of breath followed by deathly silence as Gavin stared at Ray, something uncomfortable clenching in his gut as he caught the raw pain in the man’s eyes, “He knew didn’t he? He knew that was the way I was meant to die.”

“I think so.” Caleb had known. He’d known what the Ender were planning, he’d been aware they were coming for his fellow hunters and that was why he’d fought them so hard… and perhaps even why they’d targeted him first because if Caleb had known, maybe he could’ve saved them. Maybe Caleb was meant to be the one in Gavin’s place. 

“I think he knew about his death too… a few nights before he made Geoff promise that if anything happened he’d look out for Jordan. None of us understood why he was saying it but Geoff promised, we all did and after that he just seemed calmer. Like he’d already accepted his own death.” Gavin jumped again when Ray’s foot suddenly slammed into the rock next to his, the hunter’s face twisted up in a grief he’d clearly never fully allowed himself to feel, “I can’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if I’d listened to him more.”

“You’d probably all be dead already. If there’s one thing the Ender don’t like, it’s people knowing what they’re planning before they do it.”

“So you  _really_  think Ryan really was right when he said it’s better for us to all ‘stay in the dark’?”

Something about the way the words were snapped at him made Gavin’s hackles rise, his fists balling at his sides as he yelled back, “If it means you stay alive longer then yes, it’s much bloody better. You living, us defeating them despite the odds stacked against us, that’s how we avenge Caleb. You being here right now is a huge fuck you to the Ender and all that they stand for. They wanted you dead but you’re not and they will be. They wanted Jack gone but he’s still here too. You’re all making it to the end of this bloody quest even if I have to drag you there myself because returning to Achievement City at the end of it, looking out for Jordan and living your goddamn lives that’s how he wins now. You say he knew he was going to die, well there must’ve been a reason he didn’t fight it. So pull yourself together and make that reason fucking count.”

The clearing they were in fell silent for a moment, Gavin awfully hitting his feet against the rock he was settled on as the anger that’d been clouding his vision cleared a little. He’d been about to apologize when Ray suddenly started laughing, a genuine smile coming to the man’s lips as he offered, “You know I never actually thought I’d hear you swear.”

Gavin blinked, staring at Ray for a moment as if he’d grown an extra head before allowing his lips to quirk slightly at the edges, “Yeah well you guys never swore in the books anyway.”

“You’re serious? Did Geoff’s dialogue sections just consist of a bunch of blank spaces? Hell, did Michael even  _have_ dialogue?” Gavin couldn’t help but laugh a little himself at that.

“They censored a lot of stuff. Meeting Michael in person was… well, a bit of a shock to say the least because of it.”

“Yeah I can imagine. They leave out anything else?”

“How long it takes to travel, wounds being a pain as they heal… probably some other stuff too.”

“I think I can take a guess and what else…” Gavin raised an eyebrow in question, getting little other than an amused smirk in return, “Guess that’s one secret I get to keep from you for a change.”  


“Seriously Ray?”

“Anyway we were talking about you and how little sleep you’ve been getting-”

“You can’t just drop a hint like that then change the subject!”

“I’m a man of mystery Gav, gotta let me have some secrets.” He knew Ray didn’t mean it as a criticism, but he couldn’t help but view it that way himself. He already knew so much about his fellow hunter’s lives after all, had known it before he’d even had faces to put to the names he’d come to value so much… it hardly seemed fair to pry any further considering that. Ray was right, he did deserve to have  _some_ secrets that Gavin wasn’t privy to.

“Fine...I know, I need to sleep more. I’ll… I’ll work on that.”

“Wow Gav that sounded  _real_  convincing there. Look, I’m taking the night shift tonight, this is me calling dibs-”

“Wait, you guys use dibs too?”

“You didn’t know that? We use dibs on practically everything. Geoff’s the worst with that actually, that’s why he’s got the nicest tent.”

“I thought that had more to do with him being King-”

“Gav, you know Geoff. He’s  _really_ not the type to pull rank,  _ever,_  unless he has to. Dibs however is fair game,” Gavin couldn’t help it, the image of Geoff in front of the entire court calling dibs over a tent was just too much for him to hold it in as he collapsed against the rock into the kind of delirious laughter that almost made him ache in a way he’d practically forgotten. Eventually he composed himself, offering Ray a small smile as a silent thank you before finally responding.

“If you really want to take the night shift tonight, go for it. I guess I do need a little sleep.”

“You can have it back tomorrow after you prove to me you’ve got a grip on your aim again okay?”

“Sounds fair.”

“Good… now come on, Geoff’s cooking something and there’s no way we’re getting a bite of it if Michael or Jack get there first.” Gavin slid from his chosen perch, heading with Ray back towards their current base of operations, his unease momentarily forgotten as he immersed himself in a conversation with the hunters and tried to forget the fact that the tendrils of unstable magic only seemed to be growing thicker as the days passed.

Forget the fact that someone had been watching him and Ray talk, someone who’d almost seemed  _familiar_.

\----

Sleep, as it turned out, had helped his aim. He’d hit every target Ray had set out for him, even going so far as to impale the apple the man had been about to take a bite of, just to make his point. He’d been officially ‘cleared’ to take back his night shift after that, the hunter shooting him a brief, tired smile before retreating to get some rest of his own.

What sleep hadn’t done for him however was ease the uneasy feeling that kept churning in the centre of his gut.

After all, the unbalanced magic was still there, thick and practically tangible at this point (though none of the other hunters seemed to realize it), the creepers and other monsters were still mysteriously absent, even as they moved deeper and deeper into Shadowlands territory, and Ryan was still  _far_ too relaxed. Especially knowing what they knew, sensing that unbalanced in power and strongly suspecting precisely who was wielding it.

They might not have acknowledged it directly when they’d talked, but all of this practically  _screamed_  Edgar. He’d always liked to play with his victims before he struck after all, and Ryan it’d seemed was his favourite victim of all…

But Ryan was calm, content even. And the wards dropped lower and lower by the day, to the point that Gavin almost didn’t sense them there at all anymore. And those that still lingered were weak at best, flimsy done, to the point that Gavin had started to wonder if these wards were even Ryan’s in the first place… because that familiar warmth that’d always accompanied the man’s enchantments before just didn’t quite resonate  _right_ with him anymore.

Like something was missing… like  _Ryan_ was missing.  


He didn’t confront him about it, not when the one thing he  _was_ certain of was that someone was watching their camp; watching it in a way that screamed arrogance as they allowed themselves to be noticed by Gavin, practically identified by him, before they’d slip away. Like they knew they outclassed him, like they  _knew_ he wouldn’t dare follow and leave his fellow hunters unguarded, not when they’d already made themselves so defenceless.

And worst part was, in both cases and probably more still they were right. Because the one thing he’d seen for certain about their watcher, a realization that’d begun to feature heavily in his nightmares, was the look in their eyes. Like they knew  _exactly_ how Gavin would react, not just to what they did, but to anything. Like they  _knew_ him, inside and out, and thus knew exactly how to tear him apart.

He wondered if he was seeing Edgar, if those eyes belonged to him. If so, he thought he could understand how such a man could drive so many insane, even without the power he wielded.

At least he knew he was coming if it was. Perhaps it was memories of the foreshadowing he’d experienced while reading the books but he could see the signs his fellow hunters failed to and that, at least, had to count for something. Perhaps it was Burnie throwing him a rope. Perhaps it was a side effect of being from another world, of having an outsider’s perspective…

He hated the way none of his explanations sounded that convincing anymore, even to his own ears.

He was tired of living by the perhapses, and using the at leasts just to get him by. He was tired of waiting for the storm to hit and for Edgar to make himself known, as much as he honestly dreaded the day that he would. And he was so bloody tired of being the only one who  _could_ see he was even there.

But he wasn’t allowed to be, because someone had to protect these men, and they’d already lost their first human shield to weariness, even if it wasn’t in quite the same way.

\----

Gavin shot awake, hands scrabbling desperately at the earth beside him as the world seemed to spin for a moment, dizzying and disorientating until it suddenly snapped into focus.

Had he fallen asleep at his post? God, Ray would never let him live that down if he had, especially given how much he knew the hunters teased him for doing the exact same thing a few years back but… no, he couldn’t remember drifting off, or even being tired earlier. He’d gotten enough sleep during the day to make sure he wouldn’t be.

And his weapon was gone too, resting at the foot of his and Ray’s tent like it’d simply been placed there except he never took it off, not unless he was actually sleeping, and only then inside the actual tent with someone else guarding the group. He’d never have unarmed himself like this.

But here he was, unarmed and laid out against the earth, his head still a little foggy… and painful, he realized after a moment as he attempted to right himself, a dizzying sense of nausea overtaking his system the moment he did. He took a moment, taking care to breathe in deep, steady gulps of air before forcing himself up into a sitting position, his hands immediately going to check the back of his head, only to feel something wet and sticky against his hair and…  _oh._

“How’s your head? Sorry about that by the way, I really should’ve been gentler.” A hand moved to caress Gavin’s cheek, almost like a lover would but firmer, nails lightly biting at his skin before the speaker roughly tilted up his chin to meet his gaze.

“Ryan?”

“Don’t act surprised. We both knew your story was headed this way.”

“Edgar.”

“More or less. You know how it works, I get into his head, he becomes my little puppet. Kudos for noticing, not many do before I choose to make it known. Then again, you  _did_ have a little help on your side.” Gavin’s heart may well have stopped as not-Ryan held up the manuscript with his spare hand, roughly releasing Gavin’s chin in order to turn through the pages, “You know I’m almost impressed, you have quite the way with words you know.”

“They’re not my words they’re-”

“Burnie’s? You think so? You see I’m pretty sure there’s a different mind at work penning these particular scenes, your style’s much more abrupt, to the point,  _full_  of heart. It’s a nice opening, about time there was some  _real_  conflict though don’t you think? I’d imagine your readers are getting bored.”

“I don’t care about the-” Gavin was cut off roughly as not-Ryan tore off one of his gloves, forcing it roughly into his mouth with a crooked smile on his lips that honestly made his blood run cold.

“Much better. Pretty things are better seen not heard, and however nice your words may be Gavin David Free, right now  _I_ don’t want to hear them. But yes, your readers. You might’ve forgotten them but every story has an audience, otherwise it’s not a story, just musings in the mind of a child who never quite felt like they belonged, did they?” A rough shove to the ground sent Gavin’s head reeling, the makeshift gag almost choking him as he scrambled to remove it.

“You’re going to play the childhood card to try and scare me?” Because if he was, it was working.

“I don’t need to tell you all about Meg and Dan or dragons with capes to intimidate you, we both know that. In fact I can do that without speaking at all.”

“Or perhaps simply by using my own voice to say it.” Gavin spun, as much as he could with his head still pounding, limbs freezing in place as his eyes came to rest on the figure who’d been stalking their camp for weeks, maybe even months now. The figure with the piercing, knowing eyes that Gavin had also been certain that he  _knew._

And now he knew why.

“Burnie?” The man smirked, hand curling in a light gesture as a cloud of sparks spiralled towards Gavin’s chest.

“Sweet dreams Gavin Free.”


	11. Not Quite The Anticipated Resolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Balance is important, as crucial to storytelling as much as it is to magic wielding... Gavin just never realized how deeply interwoven it's importance was within his own story until now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so so much for your continued support for this verse! The reaction to the last chapter in particular blew me away so seriously, thank you all so much! Your continued support for the world of Monsters really does mean the world! :)

“This isn’t you.” A swift knee to the stomach, “Gavin please,” Sharp kick to the legs, a loss of balance, “You’ve got to get _him_ out of your head.”

“He’s trying believe me.” That wasn’t his voice, “I’ve never seen someone fight so hard.” A rough hit to the jaw, “Puts Ryan there to shame.” A man with a blade, significant for some reason, “It’s always been so easy to make him my little bitch.” A force at his back, arms around his throat, shortness of air, “You sure you want to kill him Geoff?” A rush of fresh air, another loss of balance, “Pathetic.”

“Fuck you.”

“You wish, don’t you Michael?” A tight arm around his waist, not quite able to shake free…

“Don’t forget it’s not just Gavin I’ve got at my beck and call.” A sudden freedom, a swift kick to the groin, “Looks like he took that one personally Jack.”

“It’s not him you sick piece of shit.”

“It’s a little him. Just like this is a little Ryan. More him than Ryan, Ryan… knows how to behave.” The him felt personal. Was he Gavin?, “See right now he’s questioning himself.”

A sudden rush of energy. “Questioning my presence here.” It made him feel sick. _Sick? That almost hurts my feelings._

**_Fuck you Edgar._ **

“Ahh and now he’s self-aware, I’m sure you won’t mind if Ryan takes over now, will you.” The man with the knife was moving forward, advancing…

“We’ll be fine Gav, focus on getting him the hell out of there.” Ray’s voice. He could trust him, Ray wasn’t- _Me. Well no, never really needed an assistant with a rose fixation, and an even bigger fixation for something else by the looks of thi-_

**_Shut up. You don’t get to bloody talk about him that way._ **

_You think you can stop me? You know Gavin this resistance thing is cute in a way, endearing. I’m even a little impressed. I wasn’t kidding when I said Ryan gave in like a little bit-_

A shift of his hand followed by a sudden blazing in his head, less painful than it should’ve been and- _Ouch. You really are just full of surprises aren’t you. Using your own head trauma against me, clever... creative. Then again I should be surprised. You’ve done well to get this far after all. I was honestly expecting you to fall at that first hurdle._

**_Guess you got a little too cocky._ **

_Maybe. Maybe I should’ve just cut out the middle man and enchanted those roses myself, instead of having Ryan do it for me._

**_What-_ **

_Yep, Ryan was the one who cast that spell over Ray, over all of you for that matter. I really did think it’d work. I had no idea you’d manage to shake free. Then again, you’re the one with the ideas aren’t you. You and him._

**_Him?_ **

_And then there’s us._

**_Us?_ **

_Not as creative as you perhaps but twice as deadly._

**_What does that even mean?_ **

_You’re just full of questions aren’t you? You have a lot of fight to you kid, I almost respect that. You know, it’s been a while since someone fought this hard… last time it happened I went by a different name, and he was a different Gavin..._

A faint crawling sensation along his skin, something about this was _wrong_ , he could tell.

... _Except not quite. No words now? Interesting. Well, let’s put it this way. You’re familiar with the concepts of balance I believe. Had Ryan throw out the groundwork for that a few days ago, I do hope you remember what he taught you._

**_Seriously. Fuck. You._ **

_You keep saying that, I might take it as an invitation._

A twist of revulsion in his very core.

_Ouch. Really, way to spare a guy’s feelings._

A sense of unease, a memory of saying those words just a couple of days ago. Then again he shouldn’t be surprised, Edgar obviously knew everything.

_Yes I do. Nice to seeing you admitting that to yourself at last, that indecisive stuff about whether or not you were in control of your own story reaaaaally got old after a while. Anyway, back on subject, in case you’ve forgotten what Ryan taught you… each magic wielder possesses two sides to their ‘spark’, a positive and a negative, creative and destructive, and in order for an enchantment to be effective polarity is essential… well, most of the time anyway._

_You see, there are extreme cases like this. Where a wielder possesses a power so great and so unstable that instead of a downward spiral of uncontrollable ruin, there is a split, or divide._

**_In power?_ **

_And self. The power splits, and with it two separate entities are created, both stable, both whole… one creative, one destructive._

**_...You’re not Burnie then._ **

Relief, in spite of everything, warm budding relief that flooded through his system, hummed within his very bones.

_I’m kind of Burnie. Just like you’re kind of him._

**_Kind of who?_ **

_Gavin. Of the Freelands._

**_...What?_ **

_Well let’s start from the beginning shall we. Once upon a time there was a young sorcerer. His name was Gavin and he grew up in the treacherous Freelands until the day a friend of his dared him to scale the cliffside, not expecting him to take the dare, let alone succeed… But one he was up there, he was too afraid to climb back down and so Gavin ended up all alone._

_He travelled to the nearest kingdom, a thriving one under a stern but just King, one who treated his subjects with love and respect and who gladly welcomed in this poor wandering soul. For years, Gavin grew up within his court, becoming a noble with no one the wiser to the poor boy’s true origins._

_And then along came a man. A man from this King’s past who offered apologies for his absence of many years and vowed to serve this King as he saw fit. He was accepted immediately, despite Gavin’s misgivings that his friend and confidant, the King, never quite seemed willing to hear._

_You see, he saw a darkness in the man that scared him. And so, he trained harder. Began to truly harness his abilities in case he ever had to put them to use and one day, he pushed a little too hard. He was just so desperate to see his King safe that he did the unforgivable and tore himself apart._

**_He died?_ **

_Are you paying attention to what I’m saying at all? I’m telling you he lived, but then so did you._

**_I don’t understand._ **

_That’s becoming obvious. I’m saying he pushed his powers too far and tore himself in two, suddenly there were two Gavins. But the two weren’t allowed to co-exist in the same world, and so Gavin of the Freelands stayed behind, and the story of Gavin David Free began elsewhere._

**_I-_ **

_Let’s make this as simple as possible. You. Are. Half. Of. Him. Of course having his creative core ripped from him left this Gavin a lot colder. He was far more decisive in his actions against the man, attempting to confront him in a duel multiple times, only to be prevented by the King._

_Not for the man’s sake though, not anymore, but for Gavin’s. Too bad the innocent part of the boy he was so desperately trying to defend had long since flown the nest._

_Still he loved his King, almost like a younger brother would it’s elder, and wanted to protect him. That never went away. For that, I almost admire him. It’s not easy for chaos to care, even if that chaos is a controlled one._

_Eventually he got the fight he wanted. He and the man met, they traded blows and curses for hours on end. The Freelands warrior fought hard, and valiantly defended his King as he did, but he was not even in his darkest hours as cruel as the man. And the man tore him apart while the King watched._

**_You’re talking about the Shadowking aren’t you? That’s why he banned all magic from his lands._ **

_He simply couldn’t bear to gaze upon the face of his foster son’s killer. It’s a tragic tale I know, if I had a heart I’m sure it’d break for him._

**_Did you kill him afterwards? The Shadowking?_ **

_I didn’t have to._

A rush of grief that wasn’t quite his own.

_You realize what this means though don’t you? You didn’t exist until the moment Gavin of the Freelands split his very core in two, your life as Gavin Free is a lie. Well actually, better to word it as a story. Sounds a lot nicer that way doesn’t it? But your past, your parents, growing up with Dan… it’s fabrication. A pretty tale to keep you from losing your mind in a world you’d never known._

The world spinning, his head spinning, the ground beneath him suddenly unsteady.

**_What about Meg?_ **

_Real. So was Dan after a time, he’s got this version of events lodged in his head just as deeply but that doesn’t make it real. Not really. You’ve never been anything other than a plot device in the story of a long dead man, hate to break it to you._

He felt sick.

_Actually no I don’t. I love doing this to you._

He might actually _be_ sick.

 _You see I get it Gavin. Really, I do. It sucks to be brought into a world that way, to be some unexpected side effect in someone else’s story. I know how that is better than anyone alive or dead in either world because we’re_ both _stories. We both came to life in someone else’s head and we both have memories that never happened, that aren’t actually ours. My parents weren’t actually mine either, I just realized that a lot sooner since Burnie wasn’t quite so careful to cover his tracks as Gavin was. He summoned up a whole life for you in that other realm, what did Burnie leave me with but the capability to tear this realm apart?_

**_If you’re trying to make me pity you-_ **

_I’m trying to make you realise how goddamn lucky you were. You were a kid in the world without monsters. You got to live in Burnie’s world, with parents who actually believed you were theirs, got to live a life that wasn’t- Look, point is, I’m almost jealous of your story kid. Because_ you _got to actually believe in it for a while._

_Then again, that has to make things harder now doesn’t it. Knowing your entire life was a lie, a subplot in someone else’s narrative… but of course that narrative’s long since drawn to a close hasn’t it? About time yours did too. Especially since the Ender have a tale of their own now, one that most decidedly does not involve you in the telling._

A rush of air, something in his hand, steel at his throat.

_You had a good run though kid. I’m sure Burnie will find some comfort in that as he drinks his way through the first few stages of denial. Maybe. Wonder if his guilt will keep him up at night?_

**_Guess you’ll never know. That must kill you inside. A man who prides himself in knowing everything but you barely know a thing about the man who wrote this do you?_ **

_Perhaps not, but I know enough. I know he’s weak and that he sent a child to fight his battles for him. I know he’s scared of me, and of the Ender and that he ran before either of us existed in the first place. You’ve often considered yourself a coward but compared to him you’re a hero._

**_There aren’t heroes in real life, just people making difficult choices._ **

_Does your life really fit into that category anymore?_

**_Perhaps not._ **

_Well then hero, it’s honestly been a pleasure, from one fictional being to another. Farewell Mr Free._

**_Fuck. You._ **

_Inspiring last words, I shall treasure them always, along with your hunters’ dying screams._

Metal pressing harder against his neck, the voice mostly retreating from his mind, a moment where everything in the world seemed to freeze and…

\----

“Gavin it’s time for dinner.”

“But muuuuum. Me and Dan are dragons with capes.” A woman with an amused smile steps into sight, wandering down the garden path, her hair tied away in a messy bun. That means wet paint on the walls in the bathroom. His parents are redecorating, _again._

“Oh yeah? Well you do know what they say about dragons don’t you?” A slight wobble as he almost falls out of the tree he’s perched in, eager to know what his mum has to say because she’s _never_ let on she knows things about _dragons_.

“What? What do they say? Tell us! Pleeeeease.”

“Pretty pleeeease.” Comes Dan’s input as he scales down the tree with an ease that has Gavin pouting.

“They say that Dragons get their ability to breathe fire from eating their vegetables.” Gavin giggles a little at that shaking his head.

“Don’t be silly mum, they don’t eat vegetables.”

“Oh yeah? Have you ever _met_ a dragon and asked him?” Gavin’s shoulders slump a little at that.

“Not yet… I will though. Me and Dan are gonna track them down one day. You know. Like the hunters do with monsters in their stories.”

“You want to fight monsters?”

“Dragons aren’t monsters silly. They’re cool.”

“Plus they could probably kick those creepers butts.” The sound of high pitched laughter fills the air moments later as the revelation of the word Dan had just used makes its way through his and Gavin’s minds, the woman simply rolls her eyes good naturedly as she moves to scoop Gavin up from the grass.

“Come on. You can kick some creeper butts yourself after you’ve eaten. You too Dan, I promised your mother I’d feed you.”

“Fiiiiiine.”

A warm hug, arms wrapping around his tiny waist, “Come on little dragon, let’s go slay some broccoli.”

The scene fades. _It wasn’t real. **Does it matter?** It does to you._ The scene changes

Dan’s stands in front of him, hands in his pockets and an awkward smile on his face. His feet shuffle from side to side in a way that reminds Gavin of when they were kids and full of hyperactive energy… he supposes neither of them really ever grew out of that, did they?

“I guess this is it then?”

“Guess so.” A voice sounding hoarser than he’d expected, Gavin’s hands held a little stiff at his sides, “When’s your first leave?”

“A few months from now.”

“Yeah… you too Gav.” A fond smile, a hand on Gavin’s shoulder and then suddenly warm arms around his waist as his eyes grew a little misty. Gavin didn’t cry, though in that moment the question remained as to whether or not he’d have to revise that statement, “Let me know how that new job goes for you, okay?”

“Okay.” Another beat of silence and then a sudden surge of slightly delirious laughter, “Now go and catch your flight you pleb before they leave without you.” Dan pulls back, a slightly sheepish grin on his lips, “You’ll call me later okay, this isn’t goodbye.” He won’t let it be.

“I know.” A moment of hesitation and then, “Catch you later B.” And then Dan takes off, racing down the corridor, every step an echo met with a sense of unease that stutters uncomfortably within Gavin’s chest.

“Bye B.” One tear manages to make a path down Gavin’s cheek, but no one seems to notice, even as one of the very pillars that upholds his very existence seems to come crashing down.

The scene fades out once more. **_Was this real?_** _I thought it didn’t matter. **Shut up.**_ The scene changes a second time.

Meg pushes her pink her out of her eyes and leans over to steal the slice of pizza Gavin had been eyeing up, he pouts at her in an attempt to reclaim it, but to no avail, well other than a light sprinkling of amused laughter. “Sorry Gav but I call dibs.” It’s the last slice, which just adds insult to the injury.

He turns morosely back to his half eaten slice of the other pizza they’d ordered, picking a little at the cheese. He’s startled out of it by the sudden incoming projectile of a cheesy bite, “Peace offering?” He grins a little, accepting the ‘offering’ gratefully as Meg moves to put in another movie, “You ready to talk about your day yet?”

Gavin sighs a little, knowing his friend picks up on it, “There’s not really much to say,” A raised eyebrow and then, “Okay fine so the director was being a bloody dick about the capture rate on the phantom again.” A wince of sympathy, “Plus one of the actors threw a fit in the middle of a scene today, set production back at least a week because of it since they managed to trash the set in the process I just… sometimes I really wish they were real, you know?”

Meg smiles a little sadly, ditching her pizza slice in order to slide across the bed and hug Gavin, her arms sending a reassuring sensation of warmth melting through his bones, “Yeah I do.” He knows she does, her life’s never exactly been a bed of roses either, “You wanna talk about the new book Burnie’s been teasing instead?”

A grateful smile as they pull back, Meg reaches over to snag the remote from where it’s resting, “Yeah, that sounds bloody top.” They silence the movie, the night’s focus instead turning to Ender, creepers, skeleton archers and the kind of warriors both aspired to be.

The scene finishes abruptly. **_Was she real?_** _Realer than you are._ A final scene appears.

Gavin’s not sure when the last time was he laughed this hard. His sides ache and yet the grin never fades as Geoff recounts a tale from his youth and does his best not to let their meal burn in the process. He knows Jack’s also keeping an eye on the meat, just as an extra precaution, so he pays it little mind.

He knows they’re approaching the first real crisis in this story, that they _must_ be, but it’s hard to focus on that right now amidst the delirious joy of Michael’s acceptance, the comforting weight of the man’s arm resting over his shoulder, and the promise of Jack’s too, if the light smile he occasionally flashes Gavin is anything to go by.

Ray keeps making snarky remarks that interfuse with Geoff’s narrative almost seamlessly, to the extent that Gavin suspects it’s a story the others here have been told before, and he honestly feels a little touched that the man is willing to retell the tale, purely for his own benefit.

He also keeps catching glimpses of Ryan’s magic, bright and unyielding in the sky as it holds strong against the lingering threats beyond its borders. Gavin doesn’t think he’ll ever stop admiring the power that lingers behind it, even if he somehow manages to amass _half_ the ability that Ryan himself possesses.

All these factors combine into a moment that just feels… well, Gavin’s not entirely sure there’s a word for it. If there is, it’s definitely escaping him right now, but that’s okay. Because right now he’s not trying to tell a story, or even rewrite one. He’s just basking in a warmth much stronger than the fire they’re gathered around, and the company he’d never have believed himself lucky enough to keep.

This scene doesn’t fade. **_Real._** _You don’t doubt that? **Not at all.** You never have, have you? All those years believing you were of another realm but you never quite stopped believing in them did you?_

**_Not once._ **

The scene fades from his vision abruptly, the pressure against his neck is gone, a familiar voice yells at him to run.

\----

Gavin collapsed to the ground a few feet from where he’d previously been stood, the blade still gripped tightly in his hand, though the pressure in his mind that’d ordered him to do so before was gone. He could _breathe_ , pathetic as that sounded to even his own mind, and for a long moment that was all it could really register.

But then a sudden bolt of energy tore through the earth beside him, jolting him out of his strange reverie that he’d managed to fall into. The bolt was Edgar’s, the lingering taste of decay in the air revealing as much as it tore through the undergrowth at his side… the magic that followed it moments later, rapidly hurtling through the sky until it formed a barrier between Gavin and any future assaults was most decidedly _not._

Before he’d had a chance to fully register it’s caster, however, there were rough hands under his arms, dragging him to his feet and towards the other hunters. It took him a long moment, longer than he’d honestly have liked to admit, for him to recognise the man as Geoff. The man seemed undeterred by this however, murmuring a string of words that were oddly reassuring given the circumstances, and the fairly liberal amount of cussing involved, as he carefully set Gavin down next to Michael who looked… worryingly pale.

Geoff was gone before Gavin could ask him what’d happened to him, though the fact that Jack was patching him up mid-battle wasn’t exactly… reassuring to say the least. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah you really look it right now,” His skin was far too pale, eyes a little glassy, plus his voice sounded a little wavery... not nearly strong enough to belong to man it’d come from.

“Way to spare my feelings fucker,” The smile on the warrior’s lips was just a little too resigned.

“Just bloody pull through you dick.” A breathy laugh, quickly cut short by a wince as Jack pressed something against the man’s side, Gavin’s head was still a little too fuzzy to identify exactly what it was.

He turned his head back to face the direction Geoff had left in, breath catching a little in concern at how close Ray and Geoff seemed to be to the inferno of light that tore it’s way through the air, engulfing the other two figures there in its ethereal glow… “Hey Gav,” He turned back to face Michael and Jack, obediently moving to press the fabric the man gestured to against Michael’s side, “Thanks.” His voice sounded weak too, a different kind of weak though, not wounded weak.

Gavin just nodded, trying not to flinch as another bolt of chaotic magic tore through the sky, his free hand taking Michael’s own and giving it a light squeeze.

He knew there were other things to think of, a crisis of identity he should probably be having and a very dangerous sorcerer across the clearing who could potentially seize control of his mind again at any moment but taking the hunter’s hand felt more important… for reasons that bothered him far more than any of the recent revelations he’d had ever could.

The same way that Jack’s loss of composure did moments later as he angrily threw one of his vials aside, clearly doing his best not to break but not quite managing anyway. He moved to take Michael’s other hand moments later and the treacherous thought that Gavin could easily become a crier again if he was reading the implications of that action correctly entered his head.

 **It wasn’t supposed to be this way.** _Life doesn’t come with a script or a pre-planned plotline, it is what it is._ **But it wasn’t, Michael wasn’t supposed to-** _To what? To die? If we’re going by that logic Ray and Jack shouldn’t be here, and Ryan should be more than on his way to following them_. **But I was supposed to fix it.** _Sometimes in life there’s things that nobody can ever fix… not fully. That’s why it’s life. Fantasy is far more fluid, we get choices we don’t get in the real world, but when the two mesh… well that’s when things like this happen._ **He can’t die.** _Gavin-_ **I won’t _let_ him die.** _I’m sorry._ **Not sorry enough. If you were you’d have never allowed this to happen. If you were you’d have done this yourself.** _I-_ **You could’ve saved him.**

And with that he closed his mind, closed off the piece of it that’d come loose when Edgar had possessed it, filed it away and the voice screaming for him to listen to him with it. He held Michael’s hand, and pushed back the overwhelming sense of loss he could already feel mounting within his gut, as the world abruptly spun into focus.

Geoff’s voice broke across the clearing, calling for Jack, and reluctantly the man was gone, rushing back to where the other hunters still fought, leaving Gavin alone with their fallen companion who seemed to grow weaker by the second, “Hey Gav.”

“Yeah?”

“Look after them, okay?” He shook his head.

“Don’t you bloody dare speak like that.” A rush of amused laughter, so faint he could barely hear it and yet at the same time it was the loudest sound in the whole damn clearing, somehow drowning out the sounds of swords, arrows and fire, “You’re not allowed to give up on me, not yet.” Not ever.

“Gav I’ve got a blade buried between my ribs…” _No._ “Jack can’t fix that.” _No stop it, this can’t be-_ “Even Caleb couldn’t fix that.” _Please._ “And that needs to be okay.” A bitter laugh escaped Gavin’s lips.

“Nothing about this is bloody okay.”

“Well it’s all I’ve fucking got to give.” A slight wince as Michael settled himself a little better, Gavin shifting so the man could lean his weight against him, “It’s fine, I had a pretty damn good life. Plus, I always said I’d die by sword.”

“Michael.” His words caught a little in his throat, “Please.”

His eyes softened a little, “Just… don’t you dare fucking blame yourself okay? It wasn’t your fault.”

“I-”

“No. I’m serious. You blame yourself and I’m fucking haunting your ass.” A watery laugh as Gavin’s eyes slid shut for a second, bracing himself against the barrage of guilt that’d already begun to build within his chest.

“That doesn’t sound so bad.” The man gripped his hand a little tighter.

“Well you know me, if there’s a way to be fucking stubborn enough to cheat death, I’ll find it.”

“You better.” Another bolt of light tore through the air, this one seeming to ascend into the sky to the point that it breached the dimensions of this world, real or not, that they currently inhabited… it was almost beautiful really, perhaps under other circumstances he’d have been able to appreciate that more.

And then suddenly the air was light, and the unshakable sense of unease that’d been plaguing Gavin for weeks now was finally gone… and so was the pressure against his hand.

“Michael?” Gavin closed his eyes and screamed.

\----

He wasn’t sure when he’d blacked out. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if he even cared at this point.

Michael was dead.

He’d held his hand and practically felt the very breath leave his lungs and… a dry sob escaped his lips before he could silence it, a few more following before he managed to reign his emotions back under his own control.

He was back in the tent, Ray’s tent based on the lining, though he imagined soon enough he’d be getting his own. They’d brought enough for five after all, hadn’t they? A stray fist connected with his pillow, eyes closing once more as grief finally begun to wash over him in a tidal wave force, knocking the air from his lungs, leaving him cold and shaking despite the surprisingly warm weather the sudden absence of Edgar seemed to have triggered.

What other explanation was there, after all for him to still be here, still be breathing when by rights he should’ve breathed his very last in that clearing. Better him than Michael. Better him than anyone.

He could see the manuscript perched at the end of the tent and something about that infuriated him, bones humming suddenly with an indignant fury as he scrambled across his bed to claim it and begun to furiously scribble in the margins, words about injustice and lies and Burnie’s betrayal, about the plague he’d dared to release here on this world, about the fact that he’d left the people here to rot, that he’d let Michael rot. He wrote and wrote until his words were exhausted and his mind almost numb.

The pen fell from his grasp shortly after that, manuscript rapidly following it back to its original position at the edge of the tent, Gavin quickly moving to follow its example as he retreated to his makeshift bed, twisting himself up in the covers in a weak attempt to shut out the world… one that failed almost immediately afterwards as the movement jolted the tent a little, alerting the hunters outside to his consciousness.

“Gav?” Came a tentative voice from the edge of the tent.

“Not now Ray I-”

“There’s something you need to see-” Gavin sighed, narrowly resisting the urge to snap at the man who, for better or worse, was seriously grating on his already frayed nerves right now.

“Seriously I know you mean well but-”

“Gavin-”

“Look, just bloody piss off, okay?” A moment of silence, one that almost convinced him that Ray had left him alone and then-

“Told you he’d need to hear it from me.” _Impossible._ All the same, he flung the covers back with a force that almost dislodged one of the supports that was holding the tent in place, eyes coming to rest on the man in front of him with utter disbelief and- “Told you I’d find a way if there was one.”

Gavin tripped into the man as he bolted out of the tent, desperately needing to feel the proof that he really was there, that he’d somehow impossibly survived, that the pulse he’d felt leave his wrist was still beating… it was. Gavin wasn’t entirely sure whether to laugh, cry or punch the man.

“How?” He settled for asking the niggling question at the back of his mind instead.

“No fucking idea… I’m not gonna lie, I was pretty damn sure I was screwed back there but then… it was weird. It was like I was almost gone and then suddenly, I could hear a voice.”

“Whose?”

“Caleb’s.” Gavin briefly broke Michael’s gaze to share a look with Ray, seeing the same shell shocked look in the man’s eyes, “And he took my hand and guided me back… of course by then you’d passed out so we carried you back here, figured the shit Edgar pulled really took its toll on you too so we let you rest.”

“Asshole, you should’ve woke me.”

“I told him that.” Geoff’s voice suddenly made itself known as he slipped into view next to Ray, “Of course him, Jack and Ryan all teamed up against me.”

“He needed his rest. You saw him Geoff, he looked just about ready to collapse once Edgar released him,” And there was Jack’s, chiming in from somewhere over Geoff’s shoulder.

“Well then you can deal with him whining about it.” He offered Gavin a light grin which he shakily returned, still clinging a little too tightly to Michael, though the man hardly seemed to mind. In fact, if anything, he almost looked a little...smug about the fact.

“Where’s Ryan?” A slight frown suddenly marred the man’s features, “Getting some rest like you were. Taking on Edgar _really_ took it out of him. He literally tore the fucker right from his mind and well, apparently that takes a little time to heal. He’ll be fine though, he’s done it before.” He seemed a little uncertain, but not enough that it sent warning alarms blaring in his head, “I’m gonna make some food, come out when you’re ready okay?”

And with that the King retreated, taking Jack and Ray with him after they both shot Gavin reassuring smiles, the later also shooting Michael a look that he couldn’t quite decipher but seemed to amuse the other hunter all the same as he finally pulled back a little from Gavin’s arms, “Don’t keep us waiting too long okay?” He nodded, eyes never quite leaving Michael until he disappeared from the tent’s view.

After that he moved back to the manuscript, more out of impulse than anything since he still _far_ from wanted to hear _anything_ Burnie had to say for himself. But when he turned a page, it wasn’t Burnie’s familiar scrawl that met his gaze, nor his own frenzied scribbles, but a far neater hand. There were a few commas missing and more than a few mistakes but the message was still clear enough that Gavin understood.

_I want the creper man and his freinds to come bak. Mommy says that peple who die becum gardian angles so mabe Caleb can be thiers? The creper man said if I write it here it wood come true, I hope it does._

**_Thought you’d want to know who saved you. I’ll leave out the apologies because I know you don’t want to hear those, if you ever need me though I’m only a footnote away. You don’t have to rewrite this story alone._ **

Gavin wasn’t sure how to react to Burnie’s words, even less so to the ones he strongly suspected were Jordan’s, so for then he simply settled with scrawling a ‘ _thank you_ ’ next to Jordan’s words and a ‘ _noted_ ’ next to the words below before quickly scrawling a few footnotes of his own and setting the pages aside.

Tomorrow he’d worry about Ryan, Burnie and the finer details of his own existence but today all that mattered was this camp, these men and the fact that Gavin had never felt so bloody _alive_.


End file.
